


it's enough just to make you go crazy

by Anonymous



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Collaboration, Couch Sex, F/M, Hot Tub Sex, Kitchen Sex, Office Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pool Sex, Shower Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-20 15:01:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10665096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: A series of loosely-connected smutty one-shots set in different rooms and places inside Becca's mansion and grounds. Written by the Kabby Slackru! Updated daily.





	1. diving to be deeper

**Author's Note:**

> Over the next ten days, we'll be chucking approximately 22,000 words of shameless smut at you! This collaboration was the idea of #thesinbin, a _very, very_ popular channel on the KabbyFam Slack. If you haven't heard of it before, you can check out our [tumblr](http://slackru.tumblr.com) for more information about who we are and how to join! It's open to all Kabby shippers, and we discuss pretty much anything and everything, and host live episode chats, too. The list of fabulous, amazing authors who have joined us (in order their work will be posted) is: 
> 
> 1\. Hot Tub: ChancellorGriffin  
> 2\. Wine Cellar: shefollowedfires  
> 3\. Walk in closet: donnawanderedoff  
> 4\. Bed: enigmaticagentscully  
> 5\. Rooftop: CaroltheQueen  
> 6\. Couch: lelawry  
> 7\. Kitchen counter: Miss_Peletier  
> 8\. Pool: ultrahotpink  
> 9\. Shower: simplyprologue  
> 10\. Office in lab: convenientmisfires 
> 
> We also have a [bomb-ass cover](https://files.slack.com/files-tmb/T4PLAQ46Q-F4ZUVQYCV-a83ca71226/beccas_mansion_1024.jpg), made by @missninjacookies on tumblr!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by ChancellorGriffin

On the Ark they’d called it “the steamer.”

Water on the Ark was rationed aggressively, and the filtration system that made it reusable was one of their most important inventions.  Hydro Station had a series of vast tanks connected by an elaborate pipe system to filter every last drop of water from every station on the Ark; most of them were sealed, but one of them wasn’t.  After waste water from the septic system was filtered once, to remove particulate matter, it went in one of two directions – into a vast sealed reservoir used to cool the Ark’s machinery (for which nobody particularly cared about cleanliness), or into a second round of filtration to purify and disinfect it enough for bathing and cleaning.  Between that set of filters, and the third set used to make it safe for eating and drinking, the massive tank of water was open, unsealed, and kept at a near-boiling temperature.  Each sector of each station had designated open hours when “the steamer” was available by appointment for people to do their laundry; but it was also an open secret that Nygel was willing to sell you access to a temporary keycode to sneak in after hours.  The Council knew about the steamer, and like most of Nygel’s illicit activities, picked their battles as to what was worth making a fuss about; but Nygel ran a tight ship, and anyone who caused trouble in there – creating a commotion, throwing a party, loaning their keycode to somebody else – was blacklisted ever after, so her strict rules were more or less obeyed.  One hour at a time only.  One guest maximum.  No noise above low conversation.  If you’re going to fuck, do it near the filters that drain into the machinery coolant tank, and not the filters that drain the other direction; it’s bad form to come in people’s drinking water.

Jake, of course, as a master engineer, had a keycode of his own, so it didn’t cost him and Abby any under-the-table food rations to spend the evening in the steamer whenever they felt like it.  (Abby, in fact, was reasonably convinced that it was where Clarke had been conceived though of course she’d never tell Clarke that.)

The hot tub (that’s what they discovered Becca called it, so that’s how they took to referring to it themselves) was a godsend to all of them.  It took a few days for all of them to get comfortable sitting around with each other in their underwear – Jackson could never quite look at Raven, and Miller couldn’t  _ not _ look at Murphy, which made Emori look at _ him _ in a way that wasn’t quite friendly, and they all worked very hard to respectfully avert their eyes from Abby until she was safely submerged in the water up to her shoulders and the sight of her pale, full breasts rising up out of the threadbare fabric of her black bra was safely away.  Abby liked it as a way for the group to unwind after a long day in the lab – well, not the whole group, Luna didn’t trust water that had been altered with that many chemicals – but she liked it more after the kids had gone to bed and she could have the place to herself.  Partly for the quiet, and partly for the blissful feel of hot water against naked skin, instead of constricted by her underwear and bra. 

When Marcus arrived with Clarke and Roan, it turned out – rather improbably – to be Murphy who arranged for them to have a night alone at the house.  Abby didn’t think Murphy liked Kane, particularly, and it was sometimes difficult to read from day to day how fond he even was of  _ her. _  Still, after dinner he’d ushered all the others back out towards the lab, insisting in no uncertain terms that they’d all be fine crashing for one night in the staff dormitory.  When Abby attempted to thank him, he waved it off with a muttered comment about needing a night off from watching the two of them make heart eyes at each other, but even that, from him, amounted to a sizeable concession.  And however it happened, it left herself and Marcus with the run of Becca’s whole property and not a single other living soul within earshot, or sight.

Marcus’ eyes hadn’t been this wide since he first saw the market in Polis, and it was a delight to watch him take in the surroundings with open, enthusiastic wonder.  But once the others were safely on the other side of the treeline and back to the lab, it was the hot tub she wanted him to experience first. 

It was immediately worth it.  He stripped down eagerly, no longer shy in front of her the way he’d been that first night in Polis, when she could feel him almost apologizing for no longer having the body of a young man, could feel from the way he averted his eyes how long it had been since a woman had seen all of him.  But they’d thought they had time then, infinite time, and now nothing was certain anymore except that any moment he wasn’t with Abby was a wasted one, so hesitation was something he could no longer be bothered with.  He tugged off his clothes and set them aside, then watched with open desire and admiration as Abby took hers off as well.  Then he took her hand and followed her down the sleek, square white steps, descending into the scalding hot water with an audible sigh of both astonishment and ecstasy.

The steam smelled fresh and clean, tinged lightly with chemicals but not unpleasantly.  Marcus sank down into the depths, taking a seat on the low bench and letting the water rise up to his chest as the heat finally allowed the weariness of travel and anxiety and work and missing Abby to seep out of his bones, leaving him soft and relaxed.  Abby curled up beside him, legs draped across his thighs, enamored with the way the damp steam caused his thick soft hair to curl up at the ends, the way his head leaned back and his eyes closed and he exhaled deeply as though drowsy with pleasure, the way the heat sent a rosy flush spreading across his golden-brown skin.  Her head dropped down to his shoulder as his arm came around her, and for a long time they just sat like that, looking up at the stars, letting the steaming water soothe their tired bodies.

“I never did this,” he said unexpectedly, leaning back and closing his eyes, breathing in the clean, chemical-scented steam.  “On the Ark.  I never did this.”

“Not even once?”

“I’d rather have had my arm chopped off than give Nygel anything to hold over me.”

“Well, that’s fair.”

“And I thought it was inappropriate for a member of the Council to participate in anything illegal.  No matter how tempting it might have seemed.”

He played it off lightly, as though mocking his old stiffness, but it made Abby sad.  She thought of how many luxuries and pleasures he had denied himself, because he’d been so determined to set a good example, to follow every rule to the letter.  Marcus Kane had never snuck out in the middle of the night to meet a lover in the steamer.  Until Polis, he’d never even known what a hot bath felt like.  Just one more simple, innocent thing he’d told himself that everyone was permitted to enjoy but him.

“Well,” she murmured, tangling her fingers in the damp curls at the back of his neck and pressing a kiss against his shoulder, “I’m glad I get to witness your very first time.  I hope it lives up to your expectations.”

“I suspect,” he said softly, without opening his eyes, “that, like everything else about you, this too will turn out to be more than worth the wait.”

It was impossible not to kiss him after saying something like that, so she didn’t even bother fighting it.  She shifted her weight to straddle his lap, cradling his face in her hands and savoring the silky dampness of his beard as her mouth brushed against his, gently at first and then more urgently.  His arms came around her immediately, holding her firmly in place, the way he always did in this position, but the water made it almost unnecessary.  “You weigh nothing at all, like this,” he said wonderingly as she pulled away.  “Light as air.”

She chuckled at this, kissing him again, light and quick.  “It comes in handy,” she informed him a little wryly.  “Less gravity opens up  . . . more options.”

He raised an eyebrow, the meaning of her words becoming clear.  “So this isn’t a prelude, then,” he observed, amused.  “You’re not just softening me up to drag me downstairs and into that bed.”

“Well, we can do that too, but why wait?”

“That’s the Abby Griffin I’ve missed,” he said, and without missing a beat he swept her into his arms, lifting her completely and tucking her legs around his waist.  Weightless, buoyed by water and steam, it was no effort at all to hold her up, wrapped completely around his body.  The deepest depths of the hot tub only came up to his torso, standing, but he lowered himself to his knees against the sleek white stone, the water covered them both very nearly to their shoulders, letting the heat soak into them.

“Well, here’s a position we’ve never tried,” she murmured, pressing soft little kisses into the wet smooth skin of his neck, beaded with a sweet-salty blend of sweat and steam.

“My knees and my back feel twenty years younger underwater,” he grinned back.  “Who knew?  Look, I can even do this.”  And he let go of her, allowing the water to hold her afloat as her ankles, crossed around his back, kept her in place.  Then he slid one hand down between their bodies to find her clit, making her gasp with pleasure, as the other trickled warm water into the valley of her breasts, watching the glittering droplets cascade down her skin before ducking his head to lap them up with gentle flicks of his tongue. 

The water buoyed Abby’s small body completely, letting her lean back to open herself up to him even further, hair trailing in the water like a mermaid’s.  Marcus’ fingers worked busily against her clit, causing her to tremble with pleasure, soft little splashing noises filling the air as her back arched against the surface of the water.  Warm little beads of water dropped from his fingertips to her nipples, taunting her with impossibly delicate sensation and making her yearn for him to lower his head and seize her breast in his mouth.  Her hands slid up his slick wet shoulders and back to clutch at his hair, pulling him downward, and finally he yielded, parting his lips to devour one plush, silky breast just as his hand between her thighs shifted position and two fingers crooked up inside her, finding her G-spot with effortless precision as his thumb glided hard little circles around her clit.  She came with a soft, startled cry, clutching wildly at his shoulders to pull herself back up to collapse hard against his chest.

“I’ve missed that,” she whispered, kissing her way up his neck to breathe into his ear.  “I’ve missed you.  I’ve missed the way you make me feel.”

“Oh God, Abby,” he groaned, arms wrapping tightly around her back, throwing back his head and closing his eyes as her mouth traced all over the skin of his throat, jaw, shoulders, chest.  She’d learned early on how swiftly he was aroused by gentleness, intimacy, how quickly she could ready him for her by even the softest touches, as though the simple fact of her desire for him was enough to inflame his whole body with an answering desire for her.  All she had to do was tell him she was ready and then he would be ready immediately too.  And it felt so good to give him this, it felt so good to make Marcus smile, to make him groan, to make him gasp, to make him come.  He’d known so little pleasure in his life, he was making up for so much lost time, and sometimes all she wanted to do was kiss every inch of his skin to remind him how very much he belonged to her and how very much she wanted him.

When she finally reached down to guide him inside her, they both gasped with pleasure, the pure ecstasy of experiencing this feeling again after such a long absence heightening every sensation.  Abby hadn’t done this since Jake – the fucking underwater part, that is – and Marcus never had, so the peculiar rhythm of the water was new to him and achingly familiar to her.  It slowed everything down, made everything hot and loose and soft.  They lost all track of time very quickly, eyes locked on each other, wreathed in steam, hot water lapping at their shoulders with every gentle thrust of hips.  Abby’s legs wrapped around his waist kept her steady, she didn’t need to hold on with her arms too, so after awhile she let go, gliding her hot wet palms up and down the glistening warm planes of his chest, teasing his nipples into hard little peaks and cupping hot water in her palms to trickle along his shoulders.  He held her up lightly with one hand at the back of her neck, keeping her close enough to kiss whenever he liked, and the other cupping her small, round ass below the surface of the water, running light fingertips over the silky skin and occasionally teasing the tight, delicate entrance with the tip of a finger, the way she liked it.

Outside the warm little bubble of breath and steam and low whispered cries, time passed and the world turned and the stars moved through the sky, but neither of them were aware of it.  It could have been minutes, or days.  They fucked with impossible slowness, gentle and deep, like the rolling rhythm of the tide crashing against the shore.  Abby came first, her second orgasm rising up from deep within her bones to break over her with startling force.  She rocked forward, letting him cradle her tight against his chest, stroking her back with warm, strong hands, holding her in place as his cock pushed deeper and deeper into her, gliding wetly in and out, until finally his breathing accelerated and his whispers turned into gasps and he groaned her name over and over, muffled by kisses pressed against her throat, as he came and came and came, buried deep inside her, shuddering into stillness as he knelt in the water.

They stayed that way for a long time, skin flushed, hair curling from the damp steam, hearts pounding, bodies pressed together.  Finally Marcus pulled back enough to kiss her, soft and slow and content, smiling against her mouth, combing his fingers through her wet hair.

“You weren’t kidding,” he said, voice low, still a little breathless.  Abby laughed, untangling her limbs from his and letting him pull softly out of her, then taking his hand and guiding him back towards the bench, where they sat leaning back and breathing in the warm steamy air.

“Worth the wait?” she asked, with absentminded amusement, and she’d really only meant the hot tub, but from the way he looked at her and cupped her cheek in his warm wet hand, making her swallow hard at the intensity of his warm brown gaze, it was clear what he really meant.

“In every way,” he murmured, and kissed her again.  “In every way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up next by shefollowedfires is... 
> 
> _By the time they arrived at the cellar, he was about ready to kill the woman - but there were better things to be done._


	2. The Connoisseur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **by shefollowedfires**

“How’s it going in there, John?”

“You can’t rush a masterpiece, Doc.”

Abby chuckled, shifting her position as she lay across Marcus’ lap on the couch. He slung an arm comfortably across her waist, groaning as he eyed the flatscreen across the room - currently projecting images of a chainsaw-wielding madman in pursuit of a screaming blonde.

“Any chance of changing the entertainment while we wait?” he called out toward the kitchen.  

“I cook, I choose the background noise,” was the firm reply.

Marcus pointed an exasperated smile down toward Abby.

“Guess we better get comfortable, then.”

Abby returned his smile, reaching up to cup his jaw and pull him down for a quick, appreciative peck on the lips.

“He’s been looking forward to this since you radioed,” she whispered conspiratorially.

“Forgive me, but I may have been looking forward to _other_ things,” he argued gently, leaning down to bring her back to him in a slower, more decadent kiss; using the distraction to slip a hand discreetly beneath her shirt.

“What am I going to do with you?” she bemoaned playfully, with a coy grin.

“I can think of a few things,” he whispered low, so close against her ear that his breath fluttered back against his lips. Her eyes flickered with guilt towards the kitchen, and then decisively darkened. He skimmed his covered hand up along her ribcage, relishing in the resulting deep blush that bloomed across her cheeks. She gasped sharply as he swept his thumb over the cottony material of her bra. Grinning victoriously, he slowly, tantalizingly began to massage her breast.

Her heartbeat was pounding against his hand, now.

“Marcus, we can’t -” she started with a laugh, swallowing thickly as his hand swiftly scooped under the top of her bra to gather her bare breast in his palm. Her mouth dropped open, eyes closing against a shiver of pleasure. “Not - not here.”

“I’m open to suggestions,” he encouraged, fingertips brushing against a stiffening nipple.

Her eyes fluttered open, narrowing as wheels turned, then - _eureka_.

Marcus stilled his hand, watching with intent curiosity as she called out to the kitchen:

“Hey, John?”

“What’s up, Doc?”

“There’s a wine cellar downstairs, isn’t there? What do you say Marcus and I go pick out something to celebrate your first time cooking for the Chancellor?”

“Drinking on a school night, tsk.”

“John—”

“I’m just proud, is all. Go do what you gotta do.”

Abby sat up, then, turning to Marcus with a sinful smirk.

“You heard him. Let’s go.”

She took his hand. His mouth went dry.

The wine cellar could be found in the depths of Becca’s mansion, two flights of stairs and several winding hallways away from the kitchen - allowing Marcus plenty of opportunities to nuzzle teasingly into the back of Abby’s neck as she led him onward. The girlish giggles these little tastes invoked did nothing to quell the rising pressure between his thighs; nor did the retaliatory way she’d stop suddenly, as though she were lost, and brush her ass lightly against him. He’d groan with frustration, she’d flash him a devilish smirk, and they’d carry on - “oh, right, of course it’s down this way. Silly me.”

(By the time they arrived at the cellar, he was about ready to kill the woman - but there were better things to be done.)

The considerable distance from the kitchen, along with the heavy steel door that sealed the cellar’s perfectly-controlled climate, served a second purpose of swallowing up any and all sounds that might emerge before they could reach the young chef’s ears - not the least of which was the heavy _thud_ as Marcus ferociously drove Abby back against aforementioned door the second she had it shut behind them.

He gathered her up in his arms as he attacked with a hot, hungry kiss. Her fingers immediately wrung tightly into the thick chaos of his hair. His beard burned coarsely against her mouth as he rabidly consumed her -  but she devoured him right back, her tongue urgently sliding deep against his, her teeth dragging out his bottom lip to claim it as _hers._

He was hers. And oh, god, did he know it well.

“You know,” he mused suddenly, lips moving to suckle at her neck, “I think I remember reading about the five steps of a wine tasting.”

“Oh?”

“Mm.”

His hands shifted towards the hem of her jeans, making quick work of unbuttoning them. They slid beneath the tight material and found their way to her hips, thumbs hooking on the jeans and pushing downward to remove them. He sunk down to kneel before her, following the path of his hands as they skimmed over her newly-bared legs. She looked down at him with wide-eyed anticipation as she finally stepped out of her jeans.

“The first step,” he explained, palms smoothing up the back of her thighs towards her ass, “is all about the appearance.”

With that, he deftly pulled down her black panties, leaving her fully exposed.

“And what do you see?” she inquired encouragingly, affectionately carding a hand through his hair as he studied her.

“It’s beautiful,” he breathed, running his fingers through her downy hair, pressing gently with his thumbs to part her folds for a clearer view. She glistened with wetness, her clit swollen and red with want. “Brilliant. Bold.”

She grinned with pride.

He shifted closer to her, then, resting his head against the cradle of her hip. He closed his eyes.

“Now, the aroma.”

As he spoke, he was so achingly close to where she wanted him most, his lips brushing against the edge of her thighs, that she couldn’t help but roll her hips against him to bring him closer. A wave of scent followed, heady and warm, and he breathed it in with a sinner’s indulgence.

“So good, Abby.”

He leaned in, nosing into her folds, nudging gently at her clit. She trembled at the contact.

“And what’s—” she gasped as he moved to kiss the tender skin of her inner thigh, “what’s next?”

He nipped at her skin, the tickle of his beard making her shiver. He was so close, _so close_ , and her grasp on his hair tightened almost painfully as his lips moved to hover only a breath away from her center.

“Oh, Abby,” he sighed, and his lips were against her, now, but only just. She squirmed, panting as her need overwhelmed her. She could feel him grinning between her thighs as he finally answered: “Next, my love, you _swirl_.”

She nearly screamed as his tongue darted out, hot and firm, licking a variation of tight and wide circles around her clit. Her knees buckled beneath her, forcing her to brace herself against the door as Marcus suckled hungrily. He reached up to grip her ass as an added support, massaging the supple flesh in his broad palms.

“Oh - oh god,” she cried out as he worked her closer and closer to the edge. The sight of him - on his knees with his mouth buried deep, accompanied by his throaty, satisfied little hums as he gorged himself on her juices - was almost enough to send her over. Her thighs trembled and quaked around him, her breath escaping in shuddering gasps. She was almost there…

And then he slid two deft fingers inside.

With just one little crook, she was lost. She cried out, her grip on the doorframe turning vice-like as she came. She could feel Marcus’ own grip tighten on her hips with a bruising strength as he determinedly drank in every last drop of her release.

The rush of tension flooded out of her body just as quickly as it had arrived, and Marcus was quick to stand and catch her as she breathlessly collapsed into his arms. Her arms fell gracelessly around his shoulders, head buried into his neck as she caught her breath.

Coherent thought slowly returning, she was overcome with a sudden revelation:

“That was only three,” she remarked, with an edge of disbelief - that there could be _more_ \- that made Marcus’ shoulders shake with a low chuckle.

“Oh, we’re not done yet,” he explained, removing himself from her embrace enough that she could see the way his beard glistened, soaked and nearly dripping with her juices. He smiled, a cheeky little half-grin, so shamelessly filthy that it reignited the embers of her lust with the swift surge of a splash of kerosene. “You need to savour it.”

With that, he kissed her, long and slow and luxurious, letting her taste the earthen tartness of herself. She lapped at his beard, suckling with her mouth wherever it was more saturated; animalistic in her dedication to grooming him.

As she worked, his hands roamed her body. She allowed him to finally, finally lift her shirt over her head to discard it on the floor, her bra following suit soon after. Eager hands gathered her bare breasts into his palms, and he ground his hips flush against her, letting her feel the strain of his arousal through the material of his pants.

He was still clothed.

He was _still_ clothed.

“ _Marcus_ ,” she gasped, nearly a reprimand. “Get out of those. Now.”

He smiled as he kissed his way happily down her throat towards her breasts.

“It’s alright, Abby,” he reassured as he pressed sloppy, wet kisses into the tender flesh. “There’s still-”

“Oh, no, no, no,” she argued, swallowing deep in an effort to maintain her composure as he suddenly took a hardened nipple between his teeth and tugged, eliciting a sharp hiss. “Forget the steps. This was your fault, remember?”

She slid a hand between them to cup his throbbing cock through the fabric of his pants. She locked her gaze onto his. Then, she gave him a firm squeeze, watching with unabashed satisfaction as he groaned helplessly.

“Now off. All of it.”

Surrendering at last, his hands worked obediently at the zipper of his jeans while hers tugged at his shirt. Their teamwork, if a bit unchoreographed and ungainly (it would turn out, to their shared dismay, that sleeves can’t be pulled upward while pants are tugged down) had Marcus fully exposed in record time. He was iron-hard; his heavy cock a deep, deep red and pulsing with need. Abby was quick to oblige, gripping him firmly and guiding him easily into where she was already slick with renewed desire.

His forehead fell against her; a primal, shuddering sound rising like thunder from deep within him. He was _there_.

But oh god, it wasn’t enough.

So, he hiked her up effortlessly against the door, her ankles wrapping instinctively around his waist as he plunged as deep as he could go. She was so warm,  the pressure of her inner muscles so tight around him - her whole body desperate to welcome him in.  

Slowly, steadily, he began the rhythm of thrusting up into her. She clung to him fiercely; nails carving into his back, teeth sinking lightly into his shoulder in an effort to stifle her moans. That effort was quickly abandoned, however, as he picked up speed; his low grunts steadily punctuating her soft cries. He drove harder, faster, harder, faster - slamming Abby against the cold steel of the door in a way that made some distant part of him feel guilty. But her eyes were glazed, her heels digging into his spine to force him even deeper, and he knew she was lost. He felt the tension coiling tightly within and sprawling out from his core like a wildfire, setting every nerve alight with devastating sensation, consuming him.

He leaned in close to Abby’s ear, the edge of his mouth pressing hard against it, his breath hot and heavy as he mustered up the strength to speak:

“Step five,” he rasped, eliciting a stunned laugh at his determination to see this through - a laugh that halted sharply as his hand came to the spot where they connected, “is the finish.”

“ _Oh god,”_ she gasped sharply as his hand began to work in frantic, tight little circles at her clit - the race to the edge was on, and he was determined to get her there first. But she felt too good, holding him so close that he was crushed against her, her hair falling in wild tangles over both of them, her heartbeat pounding against his - and he was too ready.

He burst with dizzying force inside her. She wasn’t far behind; her thighs constricting solidly around his waist to hold him in place as she found her release.

Ragged panting slowed to long, easy exhales. Their bodies remained tightly entangled for a long moment while too conquered to do otherwise. Eventually, Abby let her legs fall, tentatively bringing her feet back to the ground; not wholly certain yet that they’d be able to hold her weight. She sighed as Marcus removed himself from her, leaning his forehead against hers like it was the only thing keeping him upright.

And then, with a gentle, smiling last kiss, they quietly set about redressing themselves.

In doing so, they were finally allotted the opportunity to take in the room they’d found themselves in: racks upon racks upon racks of bottles of every size and shape and colour, stretching back so far that they couldn’t see the end. Abby blinked at the sight, cringing at the task ahead of them.

“You’re the connoisseur,” she accused sarcastically, “Where do you suggest we start?”

Successfully securing the last button on his jeans, Marcus feigned consideration for a moment before turning to the rack directly beside him. His hand fell upon a large bottle of white, blindly pulling it out and cradling it to his chest without a second glance at the label.

“I think we can trust the former homeowner’s palate, don’t you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up next by donnawanderedoff is...
> 
> _As Abby keeps approaching him with a glint in her eyes, a glint he quickly discovered in Polis meant trouble, Marcus starts to unintentionally back away until his back hits a shelf._


	3. I'm so into you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **by donnawanderedoff**

“Marcus?”

From his position in the closet, he hears Abby closing the door of the bedroom and entering the room.

“I’m in here,” he calls out while rummaging through the drawers.

“How was your sho-“, Abby starts, only to stop dead in her tracks when his body comes into view.

Her eyes grow wide when she takes in his still slightly damp hair, his naked chest and the small towel that’s wrapped around his waist, leaving a considerable amount of his muscled thighs bare. As Abby lets her hungry eyes roam over his body, Marcus can feel himself starting to stir beneath the towel.

“Seeing something you like?” He asks, his voice coming out low and husky and he watches with fascination how her body shivers at the sound of his voice.

Her eyes snap to his, and her pupils are blown wide with arousal, “Oh,  _ absolutely! _ ”

Breath catching in his throat, Marcus watches through lidded eyes how Abby casually shrugs out of her jacket and lets it drop on the ground before slipping out of her boots. When her boots are off, she starts to close the distance between them, her hips swaying and a mischievous grin playing on her lips. As Abby keeps approaching him with a glint in her eyes, a glint he quickly discovered in Polis meant trouble, Marcus starts to unintentionally back away until his back hits a shelf.

Stopping in front of him, Abby gives him a cheeky grin before wordlessly kneeling down, her eyes still locked on his, as she lets her fingers slide over the planes of his chest, feeling his firm muscles tense beneath her touch.

“Abby what are y-,” Marcus chokes out, his eyes widening at the sight of her on her knees.

“Something I haven’t been able to get out of my mind since leaving you in Polis,” she whispers, fingers gliding to knot of the towel before undoing it and letting it drop on the ground, leaving him standing naked before her.

“Guess I’m not the only one who saw something he liked,” Abby teases as she eyes his cock, which is already half hard.

Tongue darting out of her mouth and licking her lips, Abby wraps one hand around the base of his cock while the other one is pressed against his thigh. Tilting her head slightly, she takes the tip into her mouth and gently sucks on it.

Marcus lets his head fall back against the shelf as tremors of pleasure course through him, hands curling around the wood behind him. Pushing his erection against his stomach, Abby starts to caress and suck his balls before licking his entire length, her tongue circling the tip before letting his cock disappear between her lips again.

With a groan, Marcus gathers her hair into one of his hands, the sight of his cock sliding in and out of her mouth turning him even more on.

“ _ Fuck _ ”, he moans, and Abby hums in response, the vibrations causing him to gasp out.

His hand flexes in her hair and his hips begin to slowly thrust forward. Abby moves one of her hands until it rests on top of his, pushing it firmer into her hair and Marcus starts to guide her head in time with his thrusts while she continues to suck his cock.

“Abby,” he rasps out, feeling himself getting closer and letting out a groan when she hollows her cheeks and his cock slides even deeper into her mouth,  “Stop,  _ please _ . I don’t want to come just yet,” he murmurs, tugging slightly on her hair.

With a disappointing moan, Abby releases his cock with a wet pop and his hands scramble so he can pull her flush against him, wasting no time  with bending his head and capturing her lips in a  _ bruising  _ kiss. It’s all tongue and teeth, and he has to bite back a gasp when Abby rolls her hips against his.

“Let’s get you out of these clothes,” he mutters against her mouth.

They quickly take care of Abby’s remaining clothes, as they’re carelessly thrown on the floor and she has barely taken off her bra when she’s pulled back in his arms and he’s sucking on a nipple, causing her back to arch into his caress.

Her hands instinctively grasp his head and her fingers glide through his hair, pulling him closer. She has missed this. Missed the scratch of his beard against her skin, making her shiver in delight.

Directing his mouth back against hers, she slips her tongue past his lips, while continuing to roll her hips against his erection. At his responding growl, Abby feels a thrill of excitement go through her. She  tightens her grip on his hair while letting the nails of her other hand gently scrape over his skin.

“ _ Abby _ ”, Marcus growls, his voice coming out all ragged.

Catching his bottom lip between her teeth, Abby gently bites down on it before soothing it with her tongue. Grabbing one of his hands, she tugs him forwards and Marcus believing that she’s leading him towards the bedroom, eagerly follows, only to frown when she stops in the middle of the closet.

“Wha-,” he begins, but falters when Abby presses a kiss against his lips before lying down on the rug that’s on the floor and pulling him with her.

“We’ve got a bed just -”

“Too far,” she mutters before kissing him again and Marcus willingly relents, deepening the kiss.

Rolling them over so that she’s sprawled across his chest, his palms glide over her thighs, fingers grazing her skin, marvelling at the softness of it before dragging her further up his body.

Abby seems to understand his implicit intention, because her eyes darken and she thirstily moves until she’s kneeling above her face, anticipation rushing through her. Licking his lips, Marcus firmly grabs the back of her thighs before running his tongue along her folds, humming in delight when he encounters the evidence of her arousal.

“Mmm, you’re  _ so _ wet.”

“Gods  _ Marcus, _ ” she cries out, sliding her hands in his hair while gliding her hips over his face. After capturing her clit between his lips, Marcus hungrily sucks on it, making her gasp. Moving his tongue lower, Marcus circles her entrance before dipping it inside of her and a shudder of pleasure travels through her body.

Hips moving faster, Abby tightens her grip on his hair, the slight sting of pain causing Marcus to groan against her slick flesh.

“Please, Mar- Marcus. I need – I – _oh yes,_ ” she sobs in pleasure when one of his hands slip between them and he pushes first one and then two fingers in her, pumping them in and out while sucking on her clit.

“I’m so close babe,  _ so close _ !”

She lets out a soft whine when his fingers slip out her of, but Marcus simply pulls her firmer against his face and palms her ass so he can guide her movements.  His nose nudges her clit while his tongue laps at her entrance.

Her legs are starting to shake and Abby can feel herself climbing higher and higher until with one final suck on her clit, she falls apart, screaming his name over and over, her hips stuttering as waves of pleasure roll over her.

Falling forward, Abby braces herself on the ground so she doesn’t collapse on top of him, “ _ Oh _ , Marcus,” she gasps when he gives her sensitive skin one final lick.

After she has caught her breath, Abby wriggles her way down his body until she’s straddling his waist and her breasts are pressed against his chest.

“So, you liked that huh?” Marcus teases, looking entirely too smug.

His hair is mussed from her hands and his beard is still damp with her juices and Abby nearly groans out loud about how unbelievably  _ fuckable  _ he’s looking right now.

“Shut up Marcus,” she orders, smirking with delight at his startled shout when she grinds against his achingly hard cock, “and fuck me!”

His eyes flash and without warning, he flips them and with one deep thrust he’s inside of her, and  _ gods it feels so good.  _ Groaning against her neck before nipping the delicate skin, Marcus starts to steadily move inside of her, each thrust sending sparks of ecstasy along her spine.

Moving his head to the right, Marcus drags his beard across her chest, revelling in the tiny gasps escaping Abby’s lips before pulling a nipple between his teeth, sucking and biting at the skin before switching to her other breast. At the sensation of her nipple being surrounded by his hot mouth Abby scrapes her nails down his back, no doubt leaving behind red marks, before resting her hands on his ass and pulling his hips closer. 

With a groan, Marcus pushes into her harder, their hips snapping against each other and Abby clings onto him with all her might, feeling nearly delirious with bliss. His fingers are digging in her thighs, pushing them further apart so he can slip in deeper. The change in angle causes his cock to brush against her g-spot with every thrust and Abby can feel her second orgasm starting to build.

“ _ God _ , Marcus. You feel so good inside of me.”

“You feel amazing too,” he mutters huskily, “So unbelievably amazing. I’m so close, Abby.”

“Me too. Me too,” she replies, lifting her hips so she can meet his thrusts, as their groans fills the room, “Take me with you, Marcus.  _ Please _ ”, she sobs, her back arching when he slips a hand between their bodies and as his fingers easily find her clit, rubbing it just the way he knows she likes it, in tight little circles.

“Yes! Just like that,” she begs, “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop Marcus. I’m close. I’m –  _ ah _ ,” she exclaims before her entire body tenses and her orgasm crashes over her, and wave after wave of pleasure hits her.

“O _ h Abby _ ,” Marcus softly cries out, as he feels her inner muscles clench around him, his movements momentary faltering but he continues to thrust into her.

Bending his head, he sucks a nipple into his mouth and his pace is becoming erratic as his orgasm approaches. Abby’s murmuring soft exclamations of encouragement, mixed with breathy exhales of his name. The combined sensation of her nails scraping down his back and the clench of her inner muscles around his cock is simply too much for him and with one final thrust and a growl, he’s coming and he’s filling her with his seed, hips stuttering against her.

After coming down from his orgasm, Marcus reluctantly slips from her, catching the displeased moan that escapes her lips, before rolling onto his back, his chest still heaving. With a satisfied sigh, Abby snuggles against his side, one of her arms draped across his chest. Wrapping his arm around her shoulder, he gathers her closer before dropping a soft kiss on her hair.

“That was the best welcome back, I’ve ever gotten,” Marcus murmurs and Abby can simply  _ hear  _ the smirk in his voice.

Pulling herself slightly upright so she can look him in the eyes, she tenderly brushes a lock of hair from his forehead, “Was it now?”

“Hmm. Even if I feel like I could use another shower,” he grins as he runs his fingers up and down her back.

“That is quite fortunate, because I could use one as well,”  Abby quips with a smile of her own, “Besides, I’m not nearly done with you.”

Eyebrow raised, Marcus watches how Abby slides between his legs, her breasts brushing against his chest.

“Do I even have a say in the matter?”

“Absolutely not,” Abby declares before leaning down and kissing his smug smirk away, until he’s gasping out her name.

“Shower. Now,” Marcus murmurs before swiftly rising from his position on the floor and dragging a giggling Abby with him into the direction of the bathroom. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up next by enigmaticagentscully is...
> 
> _I think threatening to tie your Chancellor to the bed could be considered treason,” he said, his voice low and soft._


	4. A Little Tied Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **by enigmaticagentscully**

Whatever her faults in life, Becca Pramheda had a  _ nice _ house. 

Abby would have appreciated it more if Marcus hadn’t been so distracted throughout the entire tour, however. They were now in a  _ bedroom, _ for goodness sake, a much nicer one than either of them had seen for weeks, and yet his mind still seemed to be miles away in Arkadia, going over problems still unsolved when he had left. 

She sat down on the edge of the bed, and sighed. 

Abby had been longing for Marcus for weeks, and she  _ knew _ he had been too. And yet she disappointingly hadn’t even managed to get him out of his jacket yet, let alone the rest of his clothes. Of course, they were both  _ adults; _ Abby could appreciate that Marcus had plenty on his mind and his obvious happiness at seeing her again didn’t necessarily  _ have _ to translate into jumping her as soon as he got the chance, but still. Just because they were  _ capable  _ of restraint didn’t mean they should let an opportunity like this pass them by altogether. 

She was feeling a bit put out, to tell the truth. 

Marcus, looking out of the window over the dark lawn, muttered: “Perhaps if I talked to—”

Finally cracking, Abby let out a noise of pure frustration. “ _ Tomorrow, _ ” she said. “You can talk to whoever you want tomorrow. Tonight it’s late, you’re too worked up about this, and you’re not going anywhere. I swear Marcus, I will tie you to this bed if I have to.” 

There was a pause.

“Is that a promise?” said Marcus. His voice was amused, but there was an undercurrent in it that made Abby glance up at him, surprised. He had turned to look at her, a slight smile playing around his lips for the first time.

“It was supposed to be a threat,” she said. “But I guess either way works.” 

Marcus left the window and strolled towards her. “Threatening your Chancellor now, are you?” he said mildly.

Abby smiled back, pleased to have at least temporarily distracted him from the matter at hand and gotten his undivided attention. “I wouldn’t  _ have _ to if you would just do as you’re told and get some rest,” she said. 

“I’m fairly sure the Chancellor is the one who gets to give the orders, Abby.” 

“Well, I’ll admit I’ve always had a rebellious streak.”

“I’d noticed,” said Marcus. He was standing so close now as to be almost touching, his dark eyes fixed on her intensely. 

“I think threatening to tie your Chancellor to the bed could be considered treason,” he said, his voice low and soft. 

Abby smirked, and then raised herself off the bed up on her toes to whisper in his ear. “Only if he doesn’t want me to.” 

She pulled back a little to see his reaction, and her pulse fluttered at the look on his face.  _ Oh.  _ He leant in and kissed her softly, a light, exploratory brush of his lips against hers. Then, still so close she could feel his breath against her lips with every word, he murmured: 

“And what if he does?”

Abby toyed with the frayed collar of his jacket smugly, pretending to think it over. 

“Put it this way,” she said finally, her voice almost a purr. “You can either go and find the radio and waste your evening on another pointless argument,  _ or _ ...you can stay here with me.” She kissed him, caught his lower lip gently between her teeth and tugged lightly before releasing it and whispering: “And I’ll tie you to this bed and fuck you so hard you forget about anything else.” 

Marcus stilled, and Abby actually heard the breath catch in his throat. She’d never said anything like that to him before; oh she’d rarely been one to mince words, especially when it came to  _ him _ , but this physical part of their relationship was still so  _ new _ , still a little tentative and unsure. The moment lasted just long enough for her to begin to worry at his reaction, before he pulled her roughly into his arms and kissed her again, his mouth hot and urgent against hers.

Abby wrapped her arms around his shoulders and responded with as much relief as passion. She pressed eagerly against him as the kiss deepened, her body flush against his, and suddenly she was  _ very _ aware of the effect this line of conversation had been having on him. 

When they broke apart they were both panting. 

“I missed you,” Marcus mumbled against her lips. 

“I missed you too,” said Abby. “Now take off your damn clothes.” 

He chuckled, but moved to obey eagerly, releasing her to shrug off his jacket and pull his shirt over his head as Abby strolled over to the window and unwound the long cord that held the curtains in place. It was a thick, twisted rope of crimson silk that felt cool and strong in her hands. 

When she turned back, Marcus was naked and staring at her, his eyes flickering to the cord.

_ “Abby,” _ he breathed, and a shiver of pleasure ran through her at the sound of her name, hushed and reverent on his lips.

“Lie down,” she said, nodding to the bed with a touch of imperiousness as she walked back to him, running the cord idly through her hands. Marcus obeyed, not taking his eyes off her as he stretched out on top of the soft sheets and – after a heartbeat of hesitation – raised his arms above his head. 

Oh yes. _ This _ was more like it.

Abby joined him on the bed, leaning over to tie his hands firmly to the frame with deft, practised movements, grateful that the injuries on his wrists had healed so well as to make this possible. Then she sat back and took a moment just to  _ look  _ at him, running her eyes over his naked form with unabashed enjoyment. Having his arms bound above his head emphasised the lean, muscular lines of his body, and she felt an unexpectedly intense surge of desire at seeing him laid out before her like this, all that power restrained, vulnerable before her. 

“If you want me to stop at any point, just tell me,” she said softly, pressing a quick kiss to his temple. 

“I don’t want you to stop,” said Marcus immediately, and Abby couldn’t help but smile at his eager certainty, desire having overcome any shyness. She straddled his hips, settling down comfortably and leaning over him to run her hands lightly down his arms to his shoulders, feeling the muscles shift and twitch under her touch. She could hear Marcus’ breath coming a little faster already, and felt inordinately pleased that he was so obviously aroused just by this. It was so astonishing, the  _ effect  _ she could have on him, all the ways she had discovered that she could turn him into putty in her hands. His seemingly limitless, passionate desire for her was something Abby was sure she would never ever get tired of. 

“Can I tell you something, Chancellor?” she said, moving closer to let her lips graze the skin of his neck lightly, against his pulse. Marcus made a soft sound of pleasure that she decided to take as a ‘yes’, so she pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes, moving her hands to cradle his face. “Having you like this  _ really _ turns me on,” she murmured. 

A smile spread across his face, and Marcus managed to raise his head just enough to capture her lips in a sudden, urgent kiss. Abby allowed herself to melt into it, letting her whole body sink onto his as he dropped back against the pillow, tangling her hands in his hair as she claimed him.

She could spend all night kissing him like this, but the swelling length of his cock pressing against her was a pretty good reminder that there were plenty of  _ other _ things she could do to Marcus Kane, and hadn’t had the chance to do in a hell of a long time. 

She felt... _ possessive _ , heady with power as she pulled away from him and slowly peeled off her shirt and bra to let them drop carelessly to the floor, Marcus following every movement of her hands with hungry eyes. She noticed his bound hands twitch a little and felt a sudden brief flash of regret – it had been so long since he had been able to _ touch _ her that perhaps...but no, there would be time enough for that later.

Settling back a little, she slowly and deliberately ran her tongue across her lips, wetting them slightly in the way she knew always drove him crazy. The way Marcus’ eyes flickered from her lips down to her bared chest for a moment gave her some inspiration, and she slid her hand slowly up the side of her body and cupped her right breast, arching her back a little as she caressed it, fingers pressing into the soft flesh. Marcus watched, his lips parted hungrily, as she circled a thumb lightly around her nipple, feeling it stiffen as much from the arousal of his gaze as from the delicate sensation of contact. She repeated the action with her other hand, allowing her head to fall back a little and a faint moan to escape her lips as she kneaded the soft, full weight of her breasts, teasing at her deliciously sensitive skin. The sound was not as involuntary as she made it out to be and it did the trick – an echoing rumble issued from Marcus, a rough, needy sound of desire.

Abby raised herself onto her knees and made sure he could see as she removed the last of her clothes. It wasn’t easy to do so particularly elegantly without leaving the bed, but Marcus didn’t seem to care, his eyes never leaving her as she wriggled out of her jeans and underwear and then straddled him again.

She let her fingers trail lightly up his now desperately erect cock, and he let out a raw, frantic moan, hips bucking uselessly against her touch. She could see the muscles on his arms strained against his bonds, trembling with the effort of stillness.

“Abby...” he groaned, and she leaned down to stop his mouth with a kiss as she squirmed into the right position and slid onto him agonisingly slowly, moaning into his mouth at the sensation as he filled her.

When they broke apart Marcus looked  _ wrecked, _ his hair a mess, his face flushed and pupils blown wide with arousal.

“God, I missed you so much,” he said hoarsely. “I missed this.”

“Me too,” murmured Abby, grazing her fingers lightly down his chest and tearing a groan from his throat as she rocked her hips a little, feeling his cock twitch inside her, swollen to aching readiness.

Unable to take it anymore, she slid her hand down to where they were joined and started to stroke herself, throwing her head back and letting her eyes flutter closed in bliss at the sweet sensation. It felt unbearably erotic, to touch herself like this while Marcus was bound and helpless, to see to her own pleasure while ignoring his.

She moved her fingers firmly, faster and faster against her slick, sensitive flesh, drawing tight little circles around her clit, not bothering to stifle her moans as the pleasure started to build. Marcus let out a soft, fervent curse as her muscles squeezed and pulsed around his cock, but she forced herself to move her hips as little as possible, denying him the pleasurable friction that she half longed for herself. There was an intense, perverse kind of arousal that came from holding back like this, and suddenly she could feel her climax building, far sooner than she had expected, coiling hot and tight in the pit of her stomach.

“Oh  _ yes _ ,” she gasped, moving her fingers desperately against the slick, throbbing bud of her clit. “Marcus... _ oh _ ...”

She pitched forward, her free hand flying out to brace herself against his chest, and  _ oh God yes _ the change of angle pressed against her just  _ right _ , and she came so suddenly and so hard she didn’t even have the breath to cry out as her body convulsed.

When she had gotten her breath back, Abby raised her head to look at Marcus. His eyes were dark and he was achingly hard and throbbing inside her, his whole body radiating tension.

“ _ Please _ Abby,” he whispered. His voice was hoarse, and she could see the sweat sheening his body, the swift rise and fall of his chest with every panting breath he took. 

She had intended to draw this out, to tease him for longer after allowing herself release, but to hell with it. He looked so damn irresistible like this – dishevelled and begging – and he’d made her feel more alive than she had in so long, and she loved him so completely, and god all she wanted to do right now was to make him feel  _ good. _

She braced her palms against his heaving chest and rolled her hips firmly, rising a little before taking him deeply inside again, feeling his hips thrust up a little to meet her. She set the pace relentlessly, riding him hard and fast, using every last scrap of energy she possessed, until he was letting out raw, increasingly desperate cries of pleasure with every movement of her hips. His arms were straining against the cords that held him, his taut, muscular body writhing beneath her. 

“Oh god Abby,” he gasped. “That’s so...I’m...”

His whole body shuddered and jerked as he came with a desperate cry, spending inside her in long, hard pulses. It looked like a pretty good orgasm from what Abby could tell. It certainly lasted for a long time.

She watched him fondly as he came down from the peak, sliding off him as he softened inside her and his breathing slowed back down, reaching up to the cords that bound him to the bed. She released them with a few deft movements and then collapsed back against him, feeling boneless and limp with exhaustion. Marcus stretched his arms out in the air briefly, working out the stiffness, and then dropped them to wrap around her, stroking her hair, her back, with characteristic tenderness.

“That was  _ incredible _ ,” he said fervently. “Was it… it was good for you too, wasn’t it?”

Abby chuckled, and pressed a kiss against his shoulder where her head was resting. “Yes sweetheart,” she murmured. “It was very  _ very _ good for me too.” She paused, and then added slyly: “Do you still want to go and radio Arkadia?”

Marcus pulled her closer, entwining their bodies together in a tight embrace.

“It can wait until morning,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up next by CaroltheQueen is...
> 
> _She's never made love to Marcus Kane in the open air, beneath the stars._


	5. in a sky full of stars, I think I see you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **by CaroltheQueen**

Working in the lab, days and nights blur together in a haze of exhaustion and fluorescent lighting. It's only when Marcus arrives that she is able to be coaxed into a real bed, and she's too tired and relieved and eager to even be embarrassed by the rolling eyes and knowing smirks from the others. To hell with it, she thinks; she's starved for him and they are down to a matter of days rather than weeks now. The thought that their separation may have all been nothing brings with it a wave of regret that makes her want to cling desperately to him and never let go.  

But tonight, lying awake, Abby finds herself drawn from his side, from the warmth of their bed, and slips out alone into the twilight. For how many more moments will she have to simply breathe it all in?

The world is quiet here. Living in Arkadia, Abby eventually grew used to the sounds of nature all around them; bird song, the wind in the trees, the quiet chirp of insects in the dead of night. But now she hears nothing. The island is still. 

Abby stands on the balcony outside their room, wearing only Marcus' long sleeved grey shirt that she'd stolen from the place she'd thrown it earlier. It brushes high on her thighs, her hands swallowed up completely in the sleeves and she curls her fingers around the material. The cold floor seeps through the soles of her bare feet, sending a wave of goosebumps rising up her legs.

She shivers, even though the night is fairly warm, and glances back into the darkness of the room where Marcus sleeps, snoring softly, peaceful for just a little while in his obliviousness. She'll return to him soon enough, but she wants to linger a moment longer. 

She tilts her head back and takes a deep breath; the air smells sweet and clean, filling her lungs and clearing her head from the lingering cobwebs of sleep. A soft wind picks up, caressing her face and stirring her hair. Above her the sky is clear, the stars a million tiny pinpricks of celestial light spread over an indigo canvas. It is a view that Abby knows well, yet has always been entirely different here on the ground. She stared into the frightening vast emptiness of it as a child and instead turned her eyes to the beauty of the planet below. She closes her eyes and remembers how the Earth looked from up there; the deep blues of its oceans and skies, the white swirls of clouds, the green and brown shades of land. Down here, up close, there is so much green... But all too soon to be swept away. It turns out they are only allowed a taste of this splendour before it is gone. 

She wonders how long before the sky is on fire and they're all choking on the taste of ash? If she were up in space right now, would she be able to see the radioactive storm making its way over the Earth's surface? 

Behind her she hears the susurrus whisper of sheets, the bed springs creaking with movement, then the padding of bare feet as Marcus approaches her.

She doesn't turn around, but murmurs, "It's so quiet," to let him know that she welcomes his company. He presses in close behind her where she stands leaning against the railing and wraps his arms around her, nuzzling into the side of her neck. 

Abby covers his arms with hers, tangling their fingers together, and tips her head to the side to give him better access. Marcus does not disappoint, pressing kisses to her pulse point and the sensitive skin behind her ear that makes her breath hitch. His bare skin radiates heat, enveloping her. 

"There's nothing left out there," She continues, staring out into the darkness, "No animals, no insects. It's all dying." 

She feels his chest expand with a heavy sigh, "Abby, what are you doing out here?" His voice is rough and gravelly with sleep; the sound of it stirs arousal anew in her belly. 

"Just... looking. Thinking." 

"Can't you think somewhere warmer?" 

Abby pulls out of his embrace just enough to turn around, teasing smile in place, "It's not that cold, honestl—" 

She stops because she's distracted by the fact that Marcus isn't just shirtless, he hasn't bothered to put on a scrap of clothing. She stares at him unabashedly, eyes travelling over paths she has explored with her hands, lips and tongue. There's something about Marcus standing out here naked and exposed to the elements, not just the fact that he is so comfortable and unashamed with her. There's something primal about it that makes her want to remove what little she is wearing too, not just to feel his skin against hers, but to remove all barriers between her and the natural beauty that is dying all around her. She's never made love to Marcus Kane in the open air, beneath the stars. 

His skin looks paler in the moonlight, it reminds her of how it used to look under the artificial lighting on the Ark. The glinting strands of silver in his hair and beard are details borne of the ground. 

She meets his gaze, finding amusement and heat in equal measure, "Someone stole my shirt."  

"I didn't steal your pants." 

The corners of his eyes crinkle when he gifts her with an easy smile, "You don't seem to be complaining." 

"I just didn't take you for an exhibitionist." 

Marcus huffs a laugh, takes her by the arms and turns her gently so she's looking out over the grounds again. He trails his fingers lightly up and down and rests his chin on her shoulder. 

"Like you said, there's no one out there. It's just you and me." His hands drift down to stroke over her thighs, slipping under the hem of his shirt, but he avoids going straight to the place where she's already throbbing with need. He touches the soft skin of her lower belly, and Abby brings a hand up behind her to tangle in his hair, pressing back firmly against him and feeling his growing arousal, "I like you wearing my shirt," He growls into her ear, and his other hand travels over said shirt to where her nipples are peaked, standing out obviously through the thin fabric. 

He teases her with light brushes, quick flicks of his thumb that make her gasp softly, whilst his other hand inches lower agonisingly slowly, fingertips drawing circles just above the dark curls between her legs. 

His mouth is hot and wet on her neck, the scrape of his beard a delicious contrast that sends shivers racing over her skin. He's rocking against her now, unable to resist, and the heat of that familiar, solid length pressed into the small of her back makes her breathless with anticipation. The muscles in her core clench at the thought of him filling her; so good, so perfect. 

Her hips hitch forward a little, seeking pressure, relief, and finding nothing. Marcus doesn't miss a thing, chuckling a little into her ear. In response, Abby simply grabs his hand (so damn close) and moves it to where she needs him; presses his fingers into the slick warmth of her and they both moan aloud, breaking the silence of the night around them. 

"Abby..."

"Please..."

She directs his touch firmly to her clit, swollen and aching, and then Marcus takes over. He rubs hard little circles into the tiny bundle of nerves, and heat sparks in her belly, stoking a fire, drawing forth more moans and quiet sighs. Abby's head falls back against Marcus' shoulder and she stares up at the starry sky as he plays her body expertly. He is a familiar, solid warmth at her back; muscles and contours that she knows by heart. And the hot, hard cock grinding against her backside, well, she's gotten to know that very well indeed. 

She shifts purposefully against him, pushing back, and  _ feels  _ the resulting groan rumbling in his chest. His fingertips speed up on her clit, dipping down teasingly to her entrance, spreading her wetness, his other hand playing with her nipples again, the two of them rolling their hips together, seeking pressure and friction. Abby tightens her grip on his soft curls and turns her head, blindly trying to find his mouth with hers. The kiss is messy and passionate and perfect; open mouths and panted breaths. Abby loves the taste of him, the way he kisses her like it matters more than breathing; the movement of his lips, the stroke of his tongue, the prickle of his beard, the small noises he makes, she could never have enough of this. 

The heat in her core is building, tension coiling, and she could so easily let go, let him bring her to completion like this, but she feels the absence of him inside her, where he belongs. She's so close, all she'd have to do is bend forward against the railing, widen her stance a little; one hard thrust and she knows she'd be there. But she wants to look at him. 

With great effort, she turns in his arms, body screaming at her for denying herself release, and loops her arms around his neck to gaze up at him properly. He's always beautiful, but an aroused, dishevelled Marcus Kane is something else entirely; it gives Abby immense satisfaction that she is the one to have put him in this state. His hair is a mess of thick brown waves from her running her fingers through it, his pupils blown huge, dark with desire, lips kiss swollen, a gorgeous red flush spreading over his strong, heaving chest. He is hers.

Her melancholy from earlier has dissipated completely, because the Earth and it's beauty has only been a fleeting thing in her life. Marcus is constant; he has always been there, one way or another, and now he is her future. Whether that be for the next 10 days, or the next 40 years. So she wants to look at him and only him. He is the one grounding her — not the Earth, not gravity — he is the one who keeps her on course. 

Marcus watches her from beneath hooded eyes; his cock is rock hard and straining up towards his belly, and when Abby takes him in hand, strokes him slowly, they fall shut and he tilts his head back with a moan, exposing his throat, completely at her mercy. She leans forward and up onto her toes to press a kiss against his Adam's apple, mouthing at the hollow of his throat, tasting the vibrations of his quiet groans on her tongue. 

A ridiculous idea takes hold of her, and she withdraws her touch, smirking at the whine that escapes him, unchecked, and backs up against the balcony railing. Abby holds his gaze, grasps the cold metal and pushes herself up to sit precariously on the ledge. 

The world tilts dizzyingly for a split second, a breathless lurch in her stomach when she loses balance, but then Marcus is rushing to hold her up, arms wrapping tightly around her, body fitting between her thighs. 

"Jesus, Abby!"  

"I knew you wouldn't let me fall," She says confidently, smiles and kisses him again, sucking on his lower lip as she hitches her legs up around his waist, settles her hands on his broad shoulders.

"Never," He murmurs against her lips, "I've got you." 

Of course she trusts him unequivocally. She knows, can feel, the strength in his body; the muscles in those arms, flexing beneath her touch. He's holding her so tightly yet always like she's the most precious thing in the world. 

His love for her turns his actions into a glorious well of contradictions: eyes always raking over her with both hunger and reverence; how he makes it perfectly clear that he's worshipping her body even as he's taking her apart in the most sinfully wonderful ways. He whispers her name over and over like a prayer when he's thrusting home, and he does it now when she presses her heel to the small of his back and guides him into position. 

She's so wet and ready for him that he glides in easily, and they take extra pleasure in watching each other's faces. The intensity in his gaze when they are together like this makes Abby's chest ache every time, like he's seeing into her soul. She hopes it is the same for him. 

When he's seated deep inside of her and their hips are flush together, Abby smiles up at him and kisses him, humming in contentment, pouring into it all of the joy and love she feels bursting from her in that moment. 

Then he starts moving, and the unfulfilled ache in her cunt starts building again. Marcus drives into her in long, powerful thrusts, gripping her just as forcefully to keep her from falling; one arm steadies her around her back, the other clutching the back of her thigh, spreading her wider, his cock hitting deeper.

Shockwaves of pleasure are rippling from her core, nerves sparking all over her body. They keep kissing like they're trying to devour each other, moans and sighs lost between their mouths. Abby's hands are buried in his hair, twisting the strands between her fingers as everything in her tightens, tightens, rising higher. 

She can feel him swelling within her, hips jerking, losing his control, but he remains aware of her every move, arm tightening around her when she lets go of him to slip a hand between them. Abby breaks the kiss on a cry when her fingertips find her throbbing clit, pleasure burning white hot now, rising in intensity. Marcus makes a pained, desperate noise, tilting his forehead down to press against hers, watching her touch herself. 

This is the thing that sends her over the edge. 

Her orgasm crashes through her, wave after wave of sensation as Marcus continues to pump into her, chasing his own release, murmuring nonsense in a rough, low voice that she can barely hear through the pleasure overtaking her and her own cries and whimpers, 

"That's it, that's it... You feel so good... Oh God, Abby!"

His hips stutter and he's coming too, shuddering and groaning and burying his face in her neck. Abby holds him as they ride out the aftershocks together, trembling and panting; she cards her fingers through his hair, gently now, and whispers her love to him. 

He peppers playful kisses over her neck and face, and somehow finds the strength to lift her and carry her, giggling, back to their bed. Abby laughs breathlessly and revels in the way he makes her feel alive. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up next by lelawry is...
> 
> _She kisses the worried crinkle between his brows again, then ghosts her lips over his cheekbone, up his jawline, ending with a butterfly soft press to his lips._


	6. Calling your name in the midnight hour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **by lelawry**

She’s drawn out of sleep at the feel of the gentle brush of a blanket being laid over her. There’s a hand tucking it in around her shoulders and - yes, she can tell from the firm precision of it that it’s Jackson. She wants to tilt her head up and tell him thanks, but she’s also relishing the feel of being tucked up against Marcus’s sleeping frame. She doesn’t want them to know that she’s awake, either - afraid that they’ll stop speaking in hushed tones and wake Marcus up. He’s exhausted and she’s glad that he managed to fall asleep during movie night.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t just wake them up?” John says in a hushed tone. “Kane’s neck is gonna hurt like fuck when he wakes up tomorrow.”

She turns her head slightly into Marcus’s neck, letting her hair fall over her face as she peeks up at him. 

Everything about his position is accommodating to her, which is why she managed to fall asleep halfway through the movie, despite the loud explosions on the tv screen and the constant chatter of the delinquents around them. She’s not even sure  _ how  _ Marcus managed to fall asleep - his arm is clamped firmly around her in such a way that she knows it must be going numb and his neck is stretched painfully to the left. 

“Let’s just let them sleep,” Raven says. “They’re both exhausted and Abby might head back to the lab to work if we woke them up right now anyway.” 

“Raven’s right,” Jackson replies. “The fact that we even got Abby to agree to a movie night with us is nothing short of a miracle.” 

John snorts with amusement. 

“Pretty sure it had nothing to do with us.” She hears John shift, thinks he must be pointing to Marcus as he says his next words. “I watched them get into a fifteen minute whisper fight about it in the lab earlier.”  John chuckles, and Abby has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. 

“Well, whatever it took,” Jackson adds with an amused lilt, “I’m glad she’s getting rest.”

“Speaking of,” Raven interjects, “let’s let them actually do that.”  

There’s a quiet murmuring in the room as the delinquents say their goodnights to one another, the door closing behind them with a hushed click.

She lifts her head from Marcus’s shoulder and inches herself out of the cocoon of his arms, careful not to jolt him out of sleep. She wants him to wake him up slowly, easily, and she’s afraid that shaking him awake will make him jerk up frantically. 

She studies the gentle lines of his face, the slight furrow of worry between his brows. She sighs. That furrow is there during almost all their waking hours; she had hoped it would smooth itself out while he slept. 

She leans over and runs her thumb over the spot, then moves forward to press her lips against it. Marcus sighs quietly, the lines in his face relaxing incrementally. 

An idea of just  _ how  _ she might wake him up in a decidedly pleasant way lights in her mind and she moves carefully until she’s straddling his lap. She kisses the worried crinkle between his brows again, then ghosts her lips over his cheekbone, up his jawline, ending with a butterfly soft press to his lips. When he shows no sign of waking, she brushes her fingers through his hair, then dips her head down and lays a soft path of light kisses up the slope of his neck. She pulls her head back to take in his expression, half pleased, half surprised that he still seems to be slumbering peacefully.

She lets her hand drift up under his shirt, tracing the hard planes of his torso as she drops her head back down to his neck. She traces her previous path, but this time mouths hot, open mouthed kisses into his skin. She stops at juncture of his neck and jawline, darting her tongue out to swipe against the soft hollow there, then sucking hard before lifting her head up slightly. She feels flushed; thinks she might need to actually shake Marcus awake for reasons other than to save him from a future neck crick when she feels his hands settle on her waist. 

“Don’t stop,” he murmurs, his voice low with undisguised want. 

She smiles, pressing her mouth against his ear as she traces the outer edge of his ear with her tongue. 

“I’m glad you’re awake.” 

His hands find their way under her shirt, his fingers moving in slow circles against her skin, mapping patterns up her spine.

“I have been since they put that blanket on us.” 

She makes a sound of disbelief and draws herself away to look him in the eye. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” 

He meets her incredulous with a teasing one of his own. 

“I believe I asked you not to stop. Doesn’t that count?” 

Before she can reply, he surges up and captures her lips with his, urgent and soft all at once. She falls into his kiss, stroking her tongue against his as she drags her nails down the sides of his torso. She rolls her hips against him, exhilarated at the feel of his hardness beneath her. He shudders at the movement, one hand flat against her lower back, the other darting under the elastic band of her bra. 

She breaks contact with his lips to grab the edges of her shirt to lift it over her head. She quickly helps him with his own shirt, and in the next moment Marcus has her bra unclasped, his eyes darkening with arousal as he brushes the straps down her shoulders. She throws her head back and gasps as he takes her breast into his mouth, his mouth hot on her skin, his tongue swirling around the hardened peak. His hand comes up to palm her other breast, his deft fingers rolling her taut nipple between his thumb and forefinger. 

She tangles her fingers into his hair, pulling at the strands as he licks a line between the valley of her breasts then alternates his attention between licking and sucking each of the stiff buds. When he grazes his teeth against one of her nipples, she cries out and yanks at his hair, the movement strong enough to jerk his back head slightly. 

Marcus groans, his hips bucking up into her. She grinds herself down against him, desperate for the contact between them. She’s soaked through with her arousal and she can feel Marcus’s hardened length straining against his jeans. 

She bends down to mouth the words into his ear. 

“Marcus, I need you inside me.” She grinds down on him again. “ _ Now.”  _

He lets out a guttural sound and nods, his mouth falling from her breast with a wet sound as he looks up at her, his eyes blown wide and black. She crashes her lips against his before pushing herself off of him. 

Marcus manages to take his pants off so quickly it’s nearly comical - except that mostly she’s just grateful she won’t have to wait to feel him inside of her.

She steps out of her own clothes quickly, then stops and straightens out at the sound of Marcus sucking in his breath sharply. 

She tilts her head at him. 

“Ok?” 

He nods, his hands reaching out and gripping her hips as his eyes move hungrily over her body

“I just still can’t believe that this is - .” He shakes his head, his fingers flexing against her skin. “That I can have you like this.” 

She smiles at him, the warmth of affection flooding her veins even as her arousal pools between her legs. He tugs her forward and she lets herself be pulled to him, bracketing her legs on either side of him, holding herself on her knees over him. 

She loops her hands around his neck, her fingers threading into the curling ends of hair at his neck. He has one hand firmly at her waist, the other squeezing her ass, the movement somehow gentle and insistent all at once. She looks down at him, keeping her eyes locked on his as she slowly lowers herself onto his cock. 

She’s so wet that he enters her easily, his expression sublime as he breaths out unsteadily, his fingers twitching at her waist. She takes him in completely, his cock buried to the hilt, and her eyes close involuntarily at the feel of him inside her. No matter how many times they’ve been together, the feel of his cock -  the length of him stretching her, filling her in the most delicious way possible - leaves her nearly breathless. She raises her hips again, reveling in the slide of his cock against her inner walls. Then, she looks down at Marcus with a wicked grin and slams her hips down against him. 

Marcus makes a noise that’s somewhere between a groan and a growl. 

“ _ Fuck _ , Abby.” 

She smiles sweetly at him as she sets the pace, her movements slow and steady as she works her hips, moving up and down on his cock as he buries his face in her breasts. His hands roam over the expanse of her skin - starting out by gripping her waist, guiding her as she rides him, then moving to drift up her spine, caress her ass, squeeze her breasts. 

“You’re so beautiful, Abby,” Marcus breathes out, his mouth and tongue imprinting the words onto her skin.

She shudders against him, the words causing her to twist her hips in a way that makes them both gasp. She’s lost in sensation - the brush of his hands across her skin, the press of his mouth on the hardened peaks of her nipples, the thrust of his cock deep into her. He moves his head away from her breasts as she braces her hands on his chest, speeding up the pace, her thighs aching in the best way possible. Marcus shifts lower onto the couch and jerks his hips and suddenly the angle of him hits the most sensitive part of her inner walls, causing her to cry out sharply with pleasure. 

Marcus grabs either side of her hips with his hands, his fingertips pressing down hard enough to bruise, a rough grunt sounding from his lips. He begins to slam her hips down onto him, thrusting up to meet her at the same time, their bodies beating out a jerky, staccato rhythm. 

She can feel the telltale sensation of warmth pooling low in her belly and she lets her hand drift down to her clit, rubbing circles against the swollen bud. She lets out a mewling cry as Marcus groans and shifts the angle of his hips, burying his cock deep into her as she continues to play with her clit. 

“Oh God, right there Marcus - keep going - fuck.” 

The last word is a bitten off groan as her body begins to quiver, waves of pleasure crashing over her as her orgasm washes over her. Her vision shatters for a moment, the room splintering, her body sinking into absolute warmth and bliss. She feels Marcus jerk against her, her name falling from his lips as a choked out sound before she feels him pulsing his own climax into her. 

She collapses against him, their sweat slick bodies slipping against one another. There’s nothing but the sound of their heavy breathing, nothing but the rippling feel of pleasure surrounding them. After a long moment, Abby lifts her head and smiles at Marcus, brushes a sweaty strand of hair away from his face before she lifts herself off of him. 

Marcus reaches out to grab her hand, threading their fingers together before bringing her hand to his lips. 

“Thanks for waking me up,” he says with a mischievous smile. 

Abby laughs, then tugs him up and presses a kiss to his lips. 

“Anytime.” 

They both pick through their clothes slowly and Abby is honestly too tired to get fully dressed. They both manage to get enough on to be considered decent - Abby with her underwear and shirt, Marcus with his just his pants on - clean up the room and then open the door.  

And run almost right into John. 

John takes in both of their appearances - Marcus’s disheveled hair, Abby’s kiss swollen lips, the fact that both of them are basically half dressed - and sighs in a way that can only be described as long suffering. 

“I guess we’ll have to make sure we do movie night in a different room next time.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up next by Miss_Peletier is...
> 
> _Having him was like breathing, as simple as walking, as natural and vital as her heartbeat; her fingers sliding through his hair and anchoring her to him, parting her lips to taste the fiery sweetness of his mouth._


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **by Miss_Peletier**

“It’s a little bigger than the kitchens we had on the Ark,” she said, ushering Marcus through the sliding glass door.

Her grin widened as he barked a laugh, undoubtedly remembering the cramped quarters in which they’d lived in space. Abby would be the first to admit she wasn’t much of a cook; she knew the human body well enough to recite its systems from memory, but the anatomy of a kitchen had always stumped her. Probably, she thought, much to her mother’s chagrin, because she’d always been studying instead of learning the nuances behind chopping carrots and blending ingredients. No matter how she tried, the dish ended up flatlining.

“Is there food here, too?” Marcus asked, the awe in his tone pulling her back to reality. They had never discussed it, but she could assume – at least from the lilt of excitement that tugged at the end of his question – that he’d been more skilled than she in culinary matters.

“Yes,” she said. She moved around him to slide the glass door closed, debating whether to lock it behind them. She didn’t want to strand the kids at the lab if they wanted to come back up to the house, although she damn well knew Clarke and Raven wouldn’t be leaving their computers and datapads until sunrise. “John told me Becca kept her refrigerator and pantry well-stocked.”

They looked at each other behind the blindingly white countertop, brown gazes connecting, and she knew they were both thinking the same thing:  _ in ten days, it’ll all be gone. _

But that was a reality too harsh for the softness of his skin, the tenderness with which he drew her into an embrace. She hadn’t been expecting it – after all, she’d just turned back to him from securing them inside the mansion – and the strength of his arms around her took her breath away.

Even with the death wave coming, she felt safe.

It was her turn to laugh, then, masking the lump in her throat with a giggle airier than any sound she’d produced in his absence.

“What was that for?” she asked.

“I missed you,” he said. “So much.”

Abby swallowed hard, understanding exactly what motivated the outburst. It all felt a little unreal. The mansion with sparkling clean floors, the lab with state-of-the-art equipment, the plush bedrooms and ornate showers…these were things that belonged in dreams, not reality. Not a world that was strapped to a time bomb, rigged to explode, counting down their heartbeats with red digits and ticks.

“I missed you, too,” she said, wondering if they’d ever be able to extract themselves from each other’s arms. Ever since Marcus had arrived they’d been all but joined at the hip, never out of each other’s line of sight, caught in each other’s orbit.

They looked at each other, leaning away in the air now soaked with tension, contemplating finally saying it – those three words that had hovered in the air between them since she’d run into his arms.

He leaned in, and she decided they already had.

This was familiar, awakening something dormant inside her that hadn’t stirred since their last night in the tower. Having him was like breathing, as simple as walking, as natural and vital as her heartbeat; her fingers sliding through his hair and anchoring her to him, parting her lips to taste the fiery sweetness of his mouth. He was more addictive, more intoxicating than the most potent of moonshines, and she found herself wanting to be completely, absolutely, senselessly drunk.

His mouth moved downward, trailing wet heat from her tingling lips to the pulse point of her neck. He remembered how to drive her crazy – of course he did, she thought, those words barely enough to break through the barrier of sensation he was building around her brain. Of course he did.

She gasped, a tiny sound that ripened into a full moan when he flicked his tongue against her neck. His next kiss was stretched with a smile, muted by a chuckle, sealed with renewed vigor as he made his way toward her chest.

“Marcus,” she panted. “God,  _ Marcus _ .”

Abby could almost hate herself for sounding so needy, so desperate. But she couldn’t help it – with her heartbeat roaring and aching wetness building between her thighs, she wondered how long either of them would be able to last. Truthfully, she wondered if she could come just from this. From the electrifying sensation of sandpaper beard on soft skin, from the feeling of restoring something she’d been incomplete without.

His mouth reached the spot where her wedding ring had once lain, treated the expanse of open skin with a gentle, almost chaste, press of his lips – it was too imprinted with memories to mark it in any other way. But Abby was done with innocence, with playing nice, with letting him go as slowly as he wanted. Fire was spreading through her body, simmering in her veins as the cool metal of the drawers pressed into her skin, and she could think about nothing else but how to put it out.

They were going to run into a problem soon enough: her shirt was still on, and his mouth was still on her body. It was a solution solved by her hands, not his – she reached down and found the hem of her shirt, yanked it over her head in one fluid motion, tossing it somewhere her closed eyes couldn’t find.

“I would have done that,” he said, his pupils blown wide with want, sliding his hands behind her back to fumble with the clasp of her bra.

“You were-“ she said, pausing for a gasp as he figured out how to work the two hooks on that pesky undergarment – “too slow.”

He gave her the same infuriating smirk he’d given her in Polis, the same simmering gaze that made her blood run hot and cold, the one that flushed her and chilled her to her core.

“Are you  _ complaining _ , Abby?” he said, his voice low with lust as he brushed his lips against her ear. He slid one hand between them and beneath the waistband of her pants, fingers inching lower and lower, seemingly slower and slower. Instinctively she bucked against his hand, trying desperately to relieve some of the aching, burning pressure that had built between her thighs. If he would only just –

_ If he’s not going to do it, I will. _

Extracting her hands from his broad shoulders, Abby found the waistband of her pants and underwear and yanked down, pooling the fabric around her ankles and stepping on it until she was free.

“Off,” she said, her words coming out in a series of blissfully agonized gasps, still trying to guide his hand to her aching clit. “ _ Now _ .”

His hand stilled on her inner thigh, apparently reluctant to stray away from the place she needed him most. But he knew what she needed most of all – the thing he’d undone her with time and time again beneath those furs – and, if the kids came back…he knew they didn’t have much time to savor it.

The second his hand left her skin, she practically tore his shirt from his body. Seeing the blaze behind her eyes he made short work of his pants and underwear and, as she looked down at his hardened length…he wanted this just as badly as she did.

Knowing their time was limited and he was infuriatingly slow, Abby moved her hands from around his back to the countertop, pushing to elevate herself onto the polished surface. Some tiny, logical part of her knew there was a couch ten feet away, a place where they could be a little more comfortable, but  _ God _ . She didn’t know if she could make it even that far. And she’d always wondered what it would be like, to have him here…even with Jake, she’d never spent enough time in the kitchen to fuck him  _ there _ .

Curiosity won out over comfort.

Marcus’ hands on her hips stopped her, cementing her feet to the ground as she tried to raise herself off the tile.

“Wait,” he murmured, pressing another gentle kiss to her mouth. “Not yet.”

Abby shivered when she realized where he was going – what those two words meant – the lightning strike of lust as he kept kissing her, returning to where he’d left off. He knew what she liked and he knew how to give it to her – the heat of his tongue around her nipples, teasing them into hardened peaks – the scratching of his beard bringing forth goosebumps wherever he kissed, licked, and bit.

His mouth moved lower still, his lips grazing her inner thighs with warmth and sandpaper.

“Marcus,” she moaned, weaving one hand through his hair while keeping the other on the counter. For balance. Just in case.

He stared up at her with impish glee, his brown eyes dark enough to pass for black, shimmering like stars. Then he traced his tongue along her clit, sank his mouth between her thighs, and she was lost.

No matter how many times they did this, she’d always be breathless.

He explored her with his tongue, stroked her and circled around that hot, aching place where she needed him, hummed with delight at the taste of her. Her mouth couldn’t even manage his name as he nuzzled deeper inside her, all heat and friction, smiling between her legs as she clutched the counter with a white-knuckled grip. It didn’t take long for stars to dance at the edges of her vision, for every muscle in her body to tense as he pressed his tongue inside her, withdrew it to slide it along her clit, sucking at the little pink bud.

She cried out once, twice, feeling the waves crash over her and pull her under, loving him for every little thing he did, loving the way he continued to drink from her as she came for him, giving her everything as her breaths came in tiny little gasps and frantic, ecstatic moans.

And when it was over, when her muscles had relaxed and her fingers disentangled themselves from his hair, he helped her climb onto the counter. She wrapped her legs around his hips, found the area just beyond his shoulder blades that she’d claimed weeks ago.

They looked at each other for a heartbeat, smiling, leaving the dissolving world behind. Then she reached down and guided him inside of her, tightening the grip of her legs around his waist to pull him in as far as she could.

Neither of them could bite back a raw cry of desperate, animalistic agony flaring to be sated, every muscle in her body tensing and relaxing as he stretched her, filled her, pressed inside her as the hardness of the counter melted away with the warmth of him.

The angle of entry changed  _ everything _ , and she felt herself cry out again as he pulled away and slid inside again, thrusting into her deeper every time, his mouth on her neck and his cock creating delicious, dizzying friction. Her fingers clenched on his back, anchoring her to him as he melted her down into a pool of electrified, throbbing pleasure.

“Marcus,” she sighed. “ _ Marcus _ .”

He trailed sticky, open-mouthed kisses along her neck, the hollow of her throat, anywhere his lips could reach, all the while maintaining his steady, deliberate rhythm.

“You feel so good,” he groaned against her skin, and she could do nothing but sigh in response.

Abby could feel him getting close, could feel the muscles in his back tensing as he tried to keep himself from spilling over. They were as close as they could be, a dizzying kind of frantic, a simmering, pulsing pleasure. And she was almost there, too, every cell in her body on fire from the sheer, unbridled indulgence of him, of moving in unison, of feeling his iron-hard length deep inside of her.

But her head couldn’t find a word other than his name, wasn’t capable of more than a syllable at a time, so instead of talking she reached down, found his hand at her hip, and slid it over her thigh to the place where they joined.

He knew what she wanted, even when she didn’t say it.

Marcus pressed down on her clit, stroked it with his thumb, rubbed it with a precision cultivated only from their experience together, from nights spent memorizing each other’s bodies. She’d been trying to keep it down, just in case, but it was too much – the friction of his cock between her thighs and his fingers stroking her aching bud was enough to make her scream.

Her hips bucked against the countertop, her fingers dug into the soft skin of his back, and she felt herself falling off the cliff for him, fireworks exploding at the edges of her vision for the second time that night. And he followed only a few heartbeats later, a muted groan as he finished his final thrust and spilled over inside her.

They clung to each other after that, Abby stroking his back, him pressing kisses into her hairline and, when their breaths were steady, one last, slow, deep kiss to her lips. He slid out of her with a soft  _ pop,  _ and slowly, they came back to the real world in each other’s arms. Oh, she’d definitely do  _ that _ again.

If they had time.

When Abby opened her eyes, he was smiling.

“What?” she asked, unable to hold back a grin of her own.

“Should we make something to eat?” he asked, and she thought about smacking him but couldn’t quite prove the double entendre.

“We should probably clean up first,” she smiled, leaning in to kiss him one more time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up next by ultrahotpink is...
> 
> _She had missed the warmth of his embrace. The sound of his voice. The feeling of his fingers trailing down her back. The feeling of him inside her._


	8. What The Water Gave Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **by ultrahotpink**

Abby fought her way through the cool water of Becca’s pool, unable or unwilling to stop her limbs from moving. After the incident in the lab she had gone back to the house, intending to try and sleep off the horrible day she’d had, but at some point she had given up and slipped on the red one piece bathing suit she’d claimed from Becca’s closet and dove into her pool.

It was night, that much she knew, but what time was it? How long had she been swimming back and forth? All she knew was that as long as she was moving, she didn't have time to think about everything that was about to befall them. If the plan for the bunker failed they had no safety net. She had failed everyone, and there was nothing she could do now to help them. And so, she swam. Back and forth in blue lit waters, hoping, no, praying that the answer would come. That she could be saved and she could be redeemed. But no answer had come, so she swam as hard and as fast as she could.

"Abby." She heard a voice say over the loud thumping of her heartbeat.

Who could it be?  Clarke or Raven trying to comfort her? They would only try to stop her, and she needed to think.

"Abby!" The voice said again more insistently this time.

It was a male voice. Maybe it was Jackson, who would be worried about her and the fact that she hadn't slept in days. But it didn't sound like him, it sounded like-

A splash of water crashed around her ears and she saw a tall thin but muscular male body blocking her path. She stopped, treading water in the deep end of the pool, blinking the water out of her eyes and attempting to focus them on the form in front of her.

Suddenly his dark brown hair, salt and pepper beard and soulful brown eyes met hers.

"Marcus!" She exhaled, swimming towards him as he waded towards her. She glanced at the pool deck to see his clothing stacked on one of the loungers, except for a pair of black briefs he wore now.

Could he swim? She didn’t know that she could until she’d tried to emulate the body movements she’d seen in old films.

Her feet barely touched the bottom of the pool where they met, but enough that she could spring into his awaiting arms. His forehead touched hers as he held her, spinning her around. The weightlessness of her body in water and her pounding heart made her feel even more breathless than she might have been.

Tears filled her eyes. "How are you here?" She gasped, still trying to catch her breath as her fingers ran through his damp mane, his arms holding her tight to his thin muscular frame.

He stopped moving, holding her still. "Clarke. She told me about what happened." His hand moved to her hair, running his fingers through it.

Tears were flowing down her cheeks now. A white flash of shame passed through her chest. "She shouldn't have… you should be—"

A hand moved to cup her cheek. "I'm right where I should be. Here with you."

She shook her head. "Our people need—"

"Our people need both of us. Both you and I. So, I'm here to make sure that that happens. I can’t do this without you.”

"Oh Marcus!" She wrapped her arms around his neck, nuzzling into his shoulder as he held her even more tightly.

She had missed the warmth of his embrace. The sound of his voice. The feeling of his fingers trailing down her back. The feeling of him inside her.

Suddenly, in this moment she needed to feel everything that he could give her. Everything that wasn't about their impending fate. Whatever was about to happen to them, she needed him to make her feel that there was something good left in the world.

Gently, she planted kisses trailing up the nape of his neck.

A low sound came from Marcus "I'm not sure—"

"Where is everyone Marcus?" She continued before running her tongue along his earlobe.

"The lab, or at least that’s where I left them—"

"Good, then we have time." She trailed her hand down his torso running her fingers along the waistband of his black briefs.

"Here? We've never—"

Her hand paused its progress and she met his gaze again. "Exactly. In seven days we'll be either locked in a bunker or worse. I want something to remember all of this by. Don't you?"

His mouth came down on hers and she smiled as he kissed her hard, knocking the remaining breath from her lungs. She was grateful that he had the power to make her mind stop for even a moment.

She ran her hands ran over his wet skin. God, he felt good under water. Hard and soft at the same time. His hands were at the small of her back, guiding her to shallower end of the pool.

He moved the straps of her red swimsuit down, pushing them over her shoulders and pulling the top of her suit down, revealing her breasts that shone a pale blue from the light of the pool.

He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He dropped feather light kisses over her breasts before taking her nipple into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it.

The cool water had made her nipples already hard but the combination of Marcus's hot mouth on her colder nipple made her shiver. She sighed, feeling a familiar ache between her thighs. It had been so long that it wouldn’t take much more until she was ready for him. She ground herself against his hot erection, sighing in frustration at the clothing between them.

Her legs released their grasp of his waist and she slid down his body. Her fingers ran along the edge of his black shorts before slipping her hand inside to run her hand across his length. God she had missed his cock! She grasped the head firmly before squeezing her hand up and down him.

He groaned, meeting her eyes. "Careful," he rasped out. "Or this might be over before it starts."

She smiled and repeated her movement again.

His breath hitched and he moved his hands into her suit, moving his fingers in short, sharp circles over her.

She gasped at the feeling of his fingers on her, luxuriating in the fast circles of his movements before moving her hand over and over him again and again and again.

"Enough." Marcus moved her swim suit the rest of the way down her slim hips, dipping under the water to slide them the rest of the way off. He made quick work of his own briefs throwing them out of the water on to the ledge behind them.

He moved her against the white tiles of the side of the pool kissing her hard, pressing his hard cock against her thigh.

"Did you miss me?" She asked. She liked to tease him, to get a reaction out of him, even though she knew that answer.

He moved himself between her thighs pinning her against the cold tiles as he positioned himself at her entrance.

"What do you think?" He said moving swiftly inside her and stretching her almost to the limit.

She bit her lip to strangle the moan that threatened to alert the other of what they were doing. God she had missed him, missed this. They had only had nine days in Polis together, but she had grown accustomed to their closeness. Before him, it had been a long while since she had been with a man, and he had awakened something in her again she had hoped would never be asleep again.

She clutched her legs around his waist, digging her heels into his lower back before thrusting against him.

He thrust back against her, the water making waves the crashed against them. She felt an all-encompassing pressure start to rise within her. This kind of angle had always made her come quickly in the past but something about the newness of the setting and the time since they were last together enhanced the urgency of it all. 

Marcus groaned. "It’s been so long. You feel so… I'm close are you—"

She threaded a hand through his thick hair, clasping and pulling on it.

"Just let go." She whispered.

He thrust into her frantically and she gasped as the deeper thrusts stretched her even further. She moaned not caring who could hear what they were doing. All she cared about in this exact moment was that he never stop. He gave one final deep thrust as she felt the warmth of him spread in her and she toppled over her own edge with a long satisfied moan.

She hung onto his neck tightly, allowing the aftermath of their encounter to wash over her as the water calmed around them.

She kissed the hollow of his neck up to his ear lobe. "How do always know what I need?" She breathed.

He softly captured her lips before pulling away just enough that she could feel the intensity of his gaze. "Because I know what I've needed the past few weeks, and it's you. Until the end of the earth, it will always be you."

And she knew in that moment she felt the same. Whatever else was coming, they would face it together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up next by simplyprologue is...
> 
> _Marcus’ thumbs paint soft lines along her cheeks and jaw, brushing his lips against hers, the barest of touches. Eyes heavily lidded, he looks at her like she holds the world in the palm of her hand._


	9. let the only sound be the overflow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **by simplyprologue**

On the Ark there would be periods when the hydrogenerators would fail to keep up with even the ten minutes each citizen would be granted each day to shower. Not that anyone ever died from dirt and sweat on their skin, but the effect on morale in Factory and Mecha was nearly tangible before calculating in the gallons of water needed to effectively wash the population’s clothes, sterilize medical instruments in the autoclave, keep the food growing in Agro and the people from dehydration, the actual tangible effects of water shortage. 

_ Conserve water, shower with a friend!  _ was a campaign slogan used precisely  _ once,  _ but echoed through the years as cheesy one-liner to get someone in a confined space with you, naked, and wet. 

That’s what Abby and Marcus tell each other anyway, as they strip off their clothes, mouths a breath apart as they step into the shower. Becca’s mansion runs off a cistern system, and after a hundred years of water collection and purification they don’t precisely need to  _ save  _ water, but old habits die hard. Or some other adjacent colloquialism. And for once, they can steal a moment from the chaos for themselves. The danger to their lives is immediate but it’s not banging down their door… not yet. 

They owe it to themselves to live as much as they can, while they can. 

Marcus’ thumbs paint soft lines along her cheeks and jaw, brushing his lips against hers, the barest of touches. Eyes heavily lidded, he looks at her like she holds the world in the palm of her hand. Winding her fingers into the thick waves of his hair, she steers them under the shower head, slotting their mouths together as the waters pours over them. The slide of his tongue and his roaming hands warm her just as much as the rising steam, the pads of his calloused fingers plucking at the nerves on her scalp, her neck, the sides of her breasts and her thighs, before cupping her ass. Their hips rock together in slow sloppy rhythm, and Marcus slides one of his thighs between Abby’s legs, groaning as she grinds her folds against him. 

Clutching to his back, she pulls herself flush against him, working herself on his thigh. The pleasure is blunt, not nearly enough to satisfy him, but the heat of his kiss and the slip-slide of their skin against each other is enough to drive her to aroused distraction. 

His cock hardens between them, resting in the crease of her leg and her hip, pulsing. Abby slides a hand down from the wet tangle of his hair, fingernails dragging sharp lines over his jugular, his biceps, his abdomen down the darkening trail of hair before she wraps her hand around his erection. He jerks against her, teeth skimming along her bottom lip, and the hand still in his hair tightens it grip to keep his mouth against hers. 

Marcus isn’t particularly long, but he’s thick, and her fingers don’t  _ quite  _ reach all the way around his girth. 

Tracing her thumb up the vein on the underside of his cock, she circles her hips around his thigh until their bodies begin to tremble — this isn’t the Ark, and there’s no water shortage here. They can take as long as they damn well like. 

Her thumb and forefinger make a ring under the head of him, and she holds it until pre-cum bubbles up from the slit, spilling over onto her hand as the shower immediately washes it away — there’s something for getting down and dirty in the shower. Hissing, Marcus torques his hips into her hand, tacitly begging for more. Breathless and baited, he tears his lips from hers, burying his face into her neck to chart her collarbone with his teeth. Sucking a bite into the juncture of her neck and shoulder, he keens as she slides her grip down to his base, and back up again. 

“Fuck, Abby—” 

His voice echoes in the small space. 

Gracelessly, he grabs the wet rope of her hair, and pulls. His other hand finds her breast, cupping it roughly. 

She has the audacity to laugh at him, giving him another hard stroke from root to tip. Laughs harder, when he moans, both sounds swallowed by the rush of the water hitting their bodies, and the floor. Lightening her grip, she steps away from him — and despite knowing that her knees might punish her for the shower’s hard floor later, drops to them. Marcus looks at her with the ubiquitous expression men seem to affect when they realize that they’re about to be on the receiving end of a blowjob, a stunned mix of arousal and elation and disbelief. 

Pressing a gentle kiss to the head of him, her tongue flits out to lick at the slit. She feels greedy as her fingers and lips trail over the velvety skin, washed clean of salt and musk. Enjoying the weight of him in her mouth, she sucks, hollowing out her cheeks, pushing his cock as far to the back of her mouth without needing to swallow him and then drawing back, releasing him with a  _ pop.  _

“Go easy on me,” he rasps, collecting her hair back from her face, brushing it over her shoulders. 

“Don’t worry,” she assures him in a low tone, then gives the underside of his shaft a slow lick and  teasing sensitive area beneath the head with her lower lip. “I have plans for you.”

“That’s what I  _ am  _ worried about,” he answers with a weak grin.

Placing a hand on the thick muscle of his thigh, she feels a tremor — but she loves it when he’s like this, half-tame and hard for her. “You’re the one who ruined me.” 

“Me?” he asks, astonished. 

“Absolutely,” she answers, and then takes him back into her mouth. 

Throwing his head back, he lets water stream over his face and down his chest. The kids are all in the kitchen, or down at the lab and so there’s no need to stifle himself. It feels like a fucking dream, to be standing in a shower that isn’t gunmetal grey and rusting, under a shower head with actual water pressure — and with Abby Griffin on her knees in front of him, sucking his cock. Letting his eyes fall closed, his entire world becomes dark heat and the pull towards climax, the pressure building at the base of his spine. Swaying on his feet, he fights the urge to thrust, and loses when she drops down further onto her haunches, tilts her head, and swallows him. The head of his erection pushes back beyond the end of her mouth, into her throat, her nose pressing against his base. 

It takes every ounce of his will to keep his hips from indulging in the primal urge to  _ rut,  _ gritting his teeth as his eyes water. 

“Abby — god, Abby,  _ fuck. _ ”

He needs to fuck her. Right now. 

Looking down at her, her flushed cheeks and hair in a soaked tangle, mouth stretched into a pretty ring around his flushed member, he curses again. Her eyes narrow, almost mirthful, as she slows pulls herself off him. His cock rises up against his belly, throbbing, and without wasting any time at all Marcus spins her and pulls her back against him to rub himself in the cleft in her ass. “Go easy, huh?” 

Ducking her head, she spreads her legs a shoulder’s width apart. “When have we ever gone easy on each other, Marcus?”

“Good point.” 

Her body blocks his from the spray, and he reminds himself he has the time to consider exactly how he wants her. There’s no race to the automatic shut off for them in Becca Pramheda’s glistening white bathroom. Rolling one of her nipples between his fingers, he licks a line from the nape of her neck to her shoulder, catching the rivulets of water with his tongue. Then he bends his knees, takes his erection in one hand, and places it at her entrance.

“Ready?” he asks, lips at her ear. Water may be wet, but lubricant it is not. His teeth grab the lobe, and pull, something feral inside of him sated when she shivers. 

When her legs almost buckle, he assumes her answer is yes. 

He pushes into her, and it’s bliss. Abby melts, the delicious stretch of being filled quenching one desire but immediately sparking another. Feeling her thighs begin to go numb she leans back against him, wrapping one arm back around his neck. A happy sigh escapes her as their bodies slot together like puzzle pieces. God, just how they  _ fit.  _

Hands coming to rest on the curve of her hips, he thrusts into her. He’s deep, buried to the base, but the angle keeps his movements superficial. They can feel every twitch and throb of the other, the slow steady build of pleasure, but it won’t be enough to send either of them over. Abby moans, low and in the clear, head lolling back against his shoulder, lips blindly finding his pulse point. He presses his nose into her cheek, and frees one hand to find her clit. 

It’s slow and it’s perfect, and it’s long after the point the showerhead would be guttering to a stop over them on the Ark and pulling them up short. 

Rocking into her, he swirls his pointer and middle fingers over the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of her legs, rubbing until it’s swollen under his touch. Abby’s moans turn into a cry, high and nearly breathless. But they keep in the pattern, driving themselves to sexed-up madness, until they’re ready to abandon sense at the edge between pleasure and pain. 

She bites the angle of his jaw.

He grabs her hands, gripping them over her head and bending her at the waist. 

She mewls. 

He pushes her up against the wall, her heated breasts against cool tile. 

Keeping her pinned, he pistons his hips against the flesh of her ass, watching his thrusts reverberate up her curves. Then he returns his hand to her clit, playing her until her cries echo loudly, helplessly. His own groans and grunts join the mix, his blood roaring in his ears. 

“Yes, yes, Marcus, yes — harder, please, yes! Exactly like that—” 

She drives him mad, rushing up towards climax and taking him with her, her body shaking and gripping him and when she orgasms around him, he follows. Clenching her hips hard, keeping her still, he drops his rhythm into a telltale grind, pulsing his release inside of her. 

Then, quiet. Just the sound of the water falling over them. 

His kisses her neck, his erection waning and sliding out of her. 

Abby rests her forehead against the wall, catching her breath. Her face is hopelessly red, and she presses her cheek against the tiles. Marcus charts gentle paths over her body with his palms, easing them both down as his cum trickles out from between her thighs, and is washed away down the drain. 

“Need me to wash your hair?” he asks, remembering that they did, originally, come in here because they both needed to shower. 

Her answer is a laugh. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And come back tomorrow for the final chapter of the collaboration!


	10. chasing down the silver linings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by convenientmisfires

Somewhere in the back of her mind she knows Marcus is arriving on the island today, it’s probably part of why she’s unable to focus on the latest test results she’s read and re-read a dozen times. She’s buried so deep in schematics that she doesn’t notice him until he drops his bag just inside the quiet, glass door of Becca’s office.

“Miss me?” He says as she looks up and he catches her eye.

_“Marcus.”_

She’s breathless and in his arms within moments. Her arms wrap around his neck, one of her hands in his hair, the other clutching at his back while his wind tightly around her waist lifting her off her feet for a moment as he tries to pull her as close as possible.

“God yes, I missed you.” There’s an edge of tears in her voice, her arms squeezing him just a little tighter.

It's been weeks since they've been able to hold, and touch, and breathe each other in so she noses her way into the crook of his neck breathing in deep, slow, steady _Marcus_. She feels his intake of breath, his hands tightening ever so slightly against her waist. Experimentally, she brushes her lips over his pulse point.

“ _Abby_ ,” he warns.

She sucks a little at the sensitive skin of his neck and she can feel him half hard through his jeans, a promising pressure against her abdomen.

“I missed this too.”

His hands slide down to her ass and he squeezes.

“And I missed _this_.” He smirks before leaning down to kiss her. It's hot and slow and desperate all at once and she's instantly just as wrecked for him as he is for her. His beard scratches softly against her cheeks as his teeth tug at her bottom lip.

Marcus tightens his grip on Abby's ass, urging her to jump into his arms and wrap her legs around his waist. Blindly he walks them back into the office, stumbling a little when he runs them into the corner of the wide, dark-metal desk.

He sits her down on the shorter side, her back to the large glass wall overlooking the lab on the floor below them. Stacks of paper, Abby's data pad and her radio are all shoved out of the way in their haste, along with several of Becca's trinkets.

“Marcus,” she gasps as his lips slide down her neck. “What about the kids? They could-- _oh god_ \--come down any minute.”

Marcus noses his way into the v of her shirt, frustrated that he can’t take her breasts in his mouth with it in the way.

“Murphy is making them dinner, I’d say we have at least half an hour before they even notice we aren’t there,” his hands slide under the hem of her shirt. “Longer before any of them make it back here.”

It’s a flimsy reassurance, he can’t guarantee John won’t send someone to the lab to retrieve Abby for dinner, but at this point she really doesn’t care. She hasn’t seen him in weeks, his hands are hot against her skin and all she wants is for him to fuck her on this desk until she forgets everything she’s been worrying about since they've been apart.

She can feel him straining against his jeans between her thighs. Shamelessly she thrusts her hips, rubbing herself against his cock, and wonders if he can feel how wet he's made her already.

His mouth is still busy between her breasts, kissing and nipping and sucking at the open expanse of skin there. A public statement that her heart is his.

“Fuck me, Marcus,” breathing heavily she pulls him up to look her in the eye. “I can't wait anymore, fuck me right here, right now.”

He pulls her off of the desk, groaning as she slides against the tented crotch of his pants.

“Turn around.”

Abby does as she's told, watching him over her shoulder. His eyes darken with lust as she bends at the waist, leaning over the desk, her ass impatiently grinding back against him. She makes quick work of her jeans, shoving them halfway down her thighs, too needy to even take them off. Marcus undoes his own, pulling out his achingly hard cock.

Marcus slides a hand up the front of Abby's left leg, between her trembling thighs. She's practically dripping for him.

“Christ Abby, you're _soaked_.”

She thrusts against his hand, desperate for friction. “Told you I missed you.”

He moves a hand to her hips and the other to his cock, groaning as he ruts shallowly between her legs, aching to be inside her. Abby spreads her legs as wide as she can with her pants trapped around her knees.

“Marcus please,” Abby begs.

He always did have trouble saying no to her. He positions himself at her entrance and pushes his thick cock inside her, stretching her open comfortably in a way they've both been craving.

“Oh God yes baby, I missed you so much,” Abby moans bending herself further over the desk to lay her forehead against the cool metal for a moment while she adjusts to the feel of him inside her.

Marcus pulls out slowly, almost entirely, his hands steady on her hips and then watches his now glistening cock disappear back inside her.

“Did you really miss me, or just one very specific part of me?” He jokes, swatting playfully at her ass as he begins to pick up the pace.

Abby's laugh immediately turns into a deep groan as he thrusts into her a little harder to make his point.

“Can't it be both?” She smiles and looks back at him.

He loves this about her, even at the end of the world they can make each other laugh. They can also make each other scream, and it's been too long since he's watched her come (radios can only do so much).

Marcus moves his hips faster, slamming her into the table and shaking it’s contents. An ornate vase at the opposite end shakes precariously, sliding closer to the edge with each slap of his hips against hers. He finds her clit with the fingers of one hand while he palms her ass with his other.

“Yes, yes harder baby please, oh _fuck_.” Abby's knuckles are white against the dark edges of the desk.

He knows she's close, he's made her come enough times to know when her moans morph into that staccato little “ _oh oh oh_ ” sound she's sprinting toward the finish line.

Marcus moves his hand over her ass and slides his thumb lightly between her cheeks, pressing against the tight opening and Abby screams. They'd done it that way in Polis. She'd shown him things he'd never even dreamed of before.

A couple more messy swirls of his fingers around her clit and she's clenching around him as she comes, gasping and screaming from the stimulation. Abby's shaking body sends the vase over the edge of the desk and Marcus takes it as a sign of accomplishment. Abby lays her torso over over the desk, pressing her forehead against the cool surface as she catches her breath. Marcus slows his pace to a gentle, shallow rock of his hips against hers.

 _“Kane are you there?”_ Murphy’s voice crackles over the radio startling them both.

Abby looks back over her shoulder at Marcus, her eyes asking why he hasn’t moved.

“You have to answer or John will send someone down here,” Abby pants. “He pretends he doesn’t care, but that kid has not let me miss a meal yet.”

Marcus smiles at that, knowing there are people here who love her, people who took care of her when he couldn’t, comforts him and his heart warms for the delinquent chef.

He leans over her to pick up the radio. “I’m here son, go ahead.”

 _“Uhh okay_ Dad _. I wanted to make sure the Doc was resting, she said she was going to sleep through dinner, but I’m not letting her play hooky to work.”_

Marcus smirks and Abby laughs lightly, her breath huffing out against the table. He rolls his hips into hers, her giggle turning into a gasp as he slips the fingers of his free hand around to trace lazy patterns on her clit.

“She’s definitely taking a breather.”

Abby glares at him over her shoulder. There’s a pregnant pause before Murphy responds, like he’s not quite sure he can take Marcus’ word for it.

 _“M’kay well I’ll bring her a plate down when we’re done.”_ Murphy pauses. _“And I guess we can save you some too if you’re too busy watching her sleep to come join us. You know I think they used to call that stalking. Just because you're sleeping with her, doesn't make it less weird.”_

“That’s my boy,” Abby whispers.

“That would be lovely, John. Thank you”

_“Yeah sure, whatever man. Just make sure she doesn’t over do it. Okay?”_

“I promise, she’s in good hands.” Marcus pinches her clit and it’s a good thing he let go of the call button or Murphy would’ve realized she’s definitely not napping.

Marcus tosses the radio into the desk chair and threads his free hand through her hair tugging lightly to pull her up against him. She likes this too, she likes when he’s a little bit rough with her. It makes her feel alive and small and powerful and needed all at once, his desperation for her never fails to make her cunt wet and aching for him.

“What do you think _Doc_ , am I taking good care of you?”

Abby raises her hand to pull him down over her shoulder for a kiss, it’s sloppy and wet and she misses his mouth a little as his hips pick up the pace again. His cock heavy within her, not having waned at all during their interruption.

“Yes, oh god baby, yes you are.”

His patience so far has been admirable, but it's beginning to slip as his hips pick up a rapid pace slamming into her over and over. With her pulled up to him, at this angle he can see her breasts bouncing with each thrust, still frustratingly trapped beneath her shirt. The neck of the shirt is wide and the buttons come undone easily. Abby gasps, a high pitched whine, when he shoves aside both her shirt and her bra to free her tits to his eager hand.

With one hand on her clit and the other teasing at her nipples, Marcus quickly brings Abby with him right back to the edge. One of her hands comes up off the desk to cover his as he plays along her chest.

“Yes, yes, yes, right there Marcus, don't stop baby. I'm so close.” Abby's legs are shaking and she's not sure she'll be able to stand after she comes, but she's right there at the edge and she wants him to come with her.

Abby leans her head back over his shoulder giving him unrestricted access to her neck and an unobstructed view of her breasts bouncing against her haphazardly pulled down shirt.

“Come with me baby,” she whispers in his ear and he's gone. His hips stutter against her ass as he feels her clenching sound him, her pussy gushing as she comes on his thick, throbbing cock. He thrusts one last time as deep as he can, bottoming out and filling her up as his cock pulses inside her.

She feels as much as she hears his soft groans as he empties himself inside her and her knees begin to give way as she comes down.  Marcus doesn't let her fall though, his arms circle her waist, holding her up as he slips softly out of her.

Marcus rests his head between her shoulder blades, catching his breath.

“I love you, Abby. Whatever time we have left, whatever else there is, I want you to know that I love you.”

She finds the energy to turn in his arms, her hands cupping his face and her thumbs brushing against the softness of his beard.

“I love you too, Marcus. And I'll never leave you again.” She kisses him then, pouring her heart into him.

They clean up using Becca's state of the art facilities and Marcus helps Abby redress, gently rebuttoning her shirt to an acceptable degree.

Abby picks up the vase they'd knocked over, finding it still in tact.

“Next time we should shoot for breaking something.” She smiles at him, and he laughs for the first time in what feels like forever.

He lays back on his side on the  wide sofa lounger at the back of the room, touching the space in front of him inviting her to join him. Briefly he realizes he could have laid her down here and saved both their knees the trouble, but he just files that knowledge away for next time.

Abby replaces the vase on the desk before climbing onto the couch with him. He wraps himself around her, his head resting on her chest and their legs tangling together. He drapes one arm low across her waist, Abby rests a hand on top of his and lays her other arm across his shoulders, carding her hand through his hair.

“I'm glad you're home.” Abby whispers, her lips brushing against his forehead.

He feels her breathing even out as she drifts off to sleep. He knows she doesn't mean the lab, she means herself. He's never put too much thought into the idea of a home. For a while it seemed like Arkadia might fit the word, before he watched it crumble to ashes.

Abby's heart is the warmest place he's ever known. He realizes he never really understood what home meant until these last 6 months on Earth with her. Abby is his home.

“Me too,” he whispers, laying a kiss against her collarbone as he follows her into sleep.


End file.
